


Reset

by syredronning



Series: Draws [16]
Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Character Death, Mindfuck, Multi, Polyamory, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 17:11:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/syredronning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are plans… and there is fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reset

**Author's Note:**

> Always remember: This series comes with a happy ending guarantee, so all will be well :)
> 
> Thanks for the wonderful beta go to shagungu, my eternal savior. All remaining flaws are solely mine.

Some women flourish when they're pregnant, or so Chris reads on the many information portals he's been surfing since Dael had delivered the unexpected news three weeks ago.

Dael, as it turns out, isn't one of them. Her body, always on the edge of what is considered normal (weight, body fat, hormones), seems to be more of an antagonist than an ally, and it leads to some appointments at SFM for nutritional supplements. The problem is worsened by her tendency to feel sick, and not just in the morning; more often than not, her meal ends flushed away in the toilet, which in turn makes her more reluctant to eat. He watches the almost daily drama rather helplessly, relegated to offering paper towels and a shoulder to lean on. It's possibly a way of paying back all those times when their roles had been inverted.

But the doctors say they'll be able to manage this, so Chris has ample time to deal with the other large elephant in the room.

"Did you tell Jim already?" he asks far too often, and shakes his head about her negative reply. He understands her reluctance, though.

_"I guess I haven't really thought it through, what it will mean for him," Dael had admitted in their very first night after the revelation. "That he might choose a planetside career for the baby, when he actually wants to be out in space. They're talking about bringing families onboard of spaceships – maybe he would like that?"  
_  
 _Chris had had to squash that idea. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I once mentioned the topic to him, and he was ready to tear my head off for the very suggestion. He's absolutely set against putting children in danger. With his history, I can understand that."  
_  
In fact, Chris thinks that Jim has some very definite, probably overly idealistic ideas about what family life should look like – basically everything he didn't have himself – and between this and Dael's attempt to recreate the memories of her own happy family, they're bound to run into a few disagreements. Even if everything else, like the question of Jim's career on Earth, can be settled acceptably.

Having a largely negative family background himself, Chris doesn't have much of an idea how he wants to live in the future, only what he wants to avoid at all costs. Like, taking on a _pater familias_ role. Though it might be hard – just three weeks into this new adventure, Chris finds himself toggling between stepping back mentally to leave the actual father position free for Jim and bouts of what he still considers caveman impulses, which make him annoyingly overprotective and alpha-male.

No surprise that Dael remains a little insecure about his attitude regarding her pregnancy. 

Still, the elephant isn't about him but Jim.

"I understand your reluctance," Chris says after yet another shake of her head to The Question. "But if you don't tell Jim, I will."

"I don't want to tell him in a recording," Dael says defensively.

"I asked Mori; they'll have a direct contact window in seven days, when they'll stop to perform routine maintenance on the Ares Transmitter Relay Station 402. That's the best opportunity."

Her face brightens on the prospect of yet another grace period. "Good. I'll tell him then." She ponders, staring down at her small portion of food. "Or maybe I should send Leonard a recording in advance?" she asks nervously a minute later.

"Tell them together."

Dael nods, still in thought. "Leonard won't like it, will he?" she asks a minute later.

Chris sighs. They've gone through the various possibilities before, and while he knows that much of Dael's behavior as of late is dominated by her hormonal uproar, he sometimes thinks he could've done without that much _femaleness_ in his life. 

"Leonard wants Jim to be happy, that's his most important goal in life," Chris explains once more. "He might not like that it will make Jim return to Earth much earlier than planned, but if Jim wants this, he'll come with him. He's often considered coming back to Earth – this way, he can have it all, Jim being safe and with him."

Rubbing her bottom lip with one finger, Dael nods once more.

"Come on, let's eat," he says and tackles his plate. 

"Dael…," Chris says a minute later when she does nothing but poke at the steak in front of her. "Do you want something else?"

"No," Dael replies instantly, but without any inclination to cut the meat tackles the vegetables instead.

She stops after three bites, paling in a way he knows far too well. Pushing her chair back, she hastens to get up.

"Stay seated and eat something, you need it," Dael says with a very fake-looking wink before she leaves towards their bedroom. Seconds later, the tell-tale sound of puking reaches Chris' ears. Unable to just eat through it, he puts down his fork. The doctors said they'd manage – he just hopes they'll do that soon, his own doctor had already admonished him for having lost some more weight when he should instead be gaining. 

They're quite a team, Chris thinks with a sigh, getting up to follow Dael for the symbolic support she never asks for but is always thankful for.

***

Still the man without a major project – and trying very hard to keep it that way, as he has every intention to retire within the next few months --- Chris is shanghaied to help out at the Academy's Children's Day the next day. All right, he was _asked,_ and after a first impulse to decline he'd decided that he might as well get used to having children in his proximity. None of his colleagues knows their news yet, and he wants to keep it that way for a while – it could only lead to another intense bout with the rumor mill which they could all live without. 

Standing around in his dress uniform makes Chris feel like an actor, though, and he's relieved when a young, very nervous ensign asks him whether he'd like to oversee the simulation room. As the age limit is ten and above, the children there are already quite grown-up and well-behaved, possibly already considering a future as cadets.

As the station seats are limited, he gets a PADD in hand to read the names of the lucky few who'd been pulled by chance. 

"Terri Fo, V'Sne, Terrence Cho, Michael and Thomas Barrister –" Chris stops on tracks. _Barrister_? He looks at the children; two boys, about twelve and ten, blond hair, green and brown eyes, just the right age… and then he looks at their mother standing behind them, female figure, long hair, good-looking. It's her slightly shocked stare, recognition morphing into something between surprise and concern, that tells him that he's right.

These are Alain's boys.

He freezes in place, eyes locked with hers – he can't even remember her name, something with a C or G. Thankfully, the nervous ensign from before appears out of the blue, taking over and ushering the children into the simulator. 

It leaves him with the parents, including the still staring woman. She makes a hesitant step towards him. "Would you meet me to talk?" she asks in a low voice, then, not waiting for an answer, pulls a piece of paper out of her bag and scribbles something onto it.

"Here," she says, pushing the note into his hand. "My number. Call me if you feel like it."

And then she leaves. 

***

"Whose number is it?" Dael asks when he puts the piece of paper onto the kitchen table that night.

"Alain's wife. Or ex-wife, I don't even know," Chris says and leaves to change out of uniform.

When he returns, Dael has put the food on the table; yet another Romulan dish, he's not too fond of them, but she obviously has a craving lately and he'd survive a few months on this diet.

It's the paper with the contact number, lying prominently in the middle of the table, that really ruins his appetite tonight. 

"Why her number?" Dael asks.

He explains how he got it, then falls silent.

"So – do you want to talk to her?"

"I don't know," Chris admits. He'd been so good at forgetting all about Alain, reconciling the leftover memories of their last night in a way that leaves his ex perfectly out of his life. Alain is history, past madness, an experience he'd never repeat. 

"Did she look like she wanted to accuse you of anything? Did she want revenge for anything?"

Chris thinks back at the woman; she'd looked a little shocked on recognizing him but that was to be expected. Other than that, she'd been quite composed – definitely more composed than he had been.

"No, I don't think so."

Dael tilts her head. "Then why don't you want to talk with her?"

"If I do… chances are a part of Alain will return to my life," Chris says slowly.

"And you don't want that?" Dael asks.

Chris mutely shakes his head. "No."

"Then don't meet with her."

Sound advice, but Chris can feel his inner resistance which probably signals his true wish. "It's so weird. The boys look so much like him…" he murmurs thoughtfully. In front of him, the food turns cold.

Dael takes his hand, squeezing it with an encouraging smile. "Then talk to her."

"Guess I will," Chris says, still undecided but inclined to follow Dael's suggestion.

***

His go-to person when he feels challenged is T'Sol, but when he goes in for a quickly arranged meeting with her, he finds her usually calm, well-ordered room full of boxes. Neatly aligned, of course, but definitely out of order.

"I'm leaving for New Vulcan," T'Sol says as she notices his frown.

"When would you have told me?" 

"Tomorrow."

"In a message to my phone?" Chris asks a little sourly.

T'Sol avoids his gaze. 

"You never gave any indication that you wanted to leave Earth."

"Sometimes, personal preferences have to step back for the good of the many." T'Sol says overly calmly.

"I see. So who's the lucky guy?" Chris asks coolly, taking a seat.

"A noble man," T'Sol says. "Who offers his hand in companionship, so that our Houses may join and contribute to the future of Vulcan." 

Despite having argued the biological necessity with Dael, Chris feels resentment rising. It's clear that T'Sol wouldn't have chosen this of her own free will. She's a wonderful person, a great healer – she deserves happiness in her life as much as any of her patients. 

T'Sol takes a seat herself. "You wanted to speak with me?"

He can't stop looking at the boxes. What Alain and his wife did, what Dael is doing … it's a choice, a want, a freely made decision. T'Sol, on the other hand, is going to subject herself to the needs of her species.

"It is not a sacrifice," T'Sol says. 

"It's not?" Chris asks back, critical and challenging.

She holds his gaze for a moment, then looks down at her folded hands.

"They can't force you," he says.

"But I want children," she replies softly. "Any living being does, unless it is heading for annihilation."

"Well, I didn't," Chris says, shocked by his own, sudden realization. Dael's dream… it'd been just that to him, wishful thinking without a chance of becoming reality in the near future. "I don't want to be a father," he adds, and feels a weight leaving him at his admission. All the biological and cultural shit that's built into that role, all the memories he'd tried to erase… He likes to play the mentor and guide for other people's grown-up children, but having his own… 

No, that was never his dream.

"What will you do now?" T'Sol asks, in her usual calm, so very sure way as if she knows all his secrets, has read his deepest thoughts – and maybe she did. Chris shrugs helplessly. She keeps him waiting; she's waiting for his answer, and he knows he needs to give one before they can move on.

"What will you do?" she asks again.

"I'll do my best to be there for Dael," he says lamely. "And I'll do anything in my might to protect her and the child."

She's got that look in her eyes that tells him she's not satisfied with his answer. He closes his eyes, listening inside.

"That's all I can give right now," he says slowly after a moment, allowing the pain of his perceived failure to wash over him before letting it dissipate in acceptance. "Being a true father… I'll leave that to Jim."

T'Sol reaches out, and for the first time ever, he takes her hand. It's dry and warm. 

"I don't want you to leave," Chris says, trying to convey in his touch all those many reasons, selfish and altruistic, why he thinks that it's not a good choice for her. 

"We all choose our destiny," she says, a ghost of a smile lingering on her lips. "Every day, with every decision, we make a step in a certain direction. You chose Dael and she chose you, and as long as you remember that, you will be able to withstand all storms and all challenges."

Chris swallows dryly, reverently curling his hands together as if to conserve the feeling of her touch.

"We are done for today," T'Sol says and gets up, as if this isn't goodbye for possibly forever. "I will send you a message with information about two other healers you might contact for follow-up, if you wish. May your life be as interesting as you want it to be." Her parting words in his ears, he's out in the garden and soon out of the main door of the Embassy, feeling bereft and sad, half on her behalf, half on his own.

***

Her name is Carmen, and she's the one Alain had left him for.

That's the gist of Chris' knowledge about her, when they meet for lunch a day later.

"Thank you for talking to me," Carmen says, looking at him from under low lashes. She seems to be as nervous as he might feel, if not for his strong mental protections in place. This is going to be about Alain, and he's not going to risk a backlash now that T'Sol is gone.

"What did you want to talk about?" Chris asks, sipping at his coffee, the only thing he feels able to stomach right now.

For a moment, she looks away before focusing back on him. "It might sound stupid, but I didn't even know about your existence for the longest time."

Chris doesn't comment on that, only fiddles with the handle of the cup between his fingertips. Taking his silence as encouragement, she goes on, "Of course there were rumors in the company, and someone told me he'd been living with a man, but he never appeared to be in a relationship, you know? He always showed up alone at company events, always had time to work late in the evenings when he was needed. He also didn't wear a ring or anything, and when I hit on him on that one evening - " she blushes a little – "he didn't really resist. So in the end, I thought the rumors were false."

She's right, Chris concedes; while he wasn't really in the closet with Alain, he'd also never ever shown up to any of those business social occasions that Alain had liked to participate in. Not being a fan of such events anyway, he'd taken part in his share of unavoidable Starfleet gatherings, but hadn't seen a need to join Alain for any, perfectly satisfied to stay in the background. 

Besides, it would've been Alain's job to explain his situation to Carmen or anyone else, if necessary – if he had wanted to. Obviously, he hadn't. 

"The night he called and asked if he could move in, he claimed his landlord had thrown him out." Carmen looks at him. "I guess that was actually _you_ throwing him out."

Feeling compelled to talk at last, Chris nods. "Yes. That night, I told him I'd resign and stay within the solar system for him… and he admitted in return that he had planned on my leaving for another tour so that he could start a life with you, without having to break up with me face to face."

She draws a face. "That must've been hard."

Chris shrugs.

"Well – for a while, we worked well together. Started a family, had the boys…you saw them at the simulator."

Chris nods.

"But then I found out that he was meeting lots of men behind my back, always looking for quick sex." Carmen doesn't look disgusted, mostly frustrated and sad. "It wasn't seeing someone else that hurt me, but that he'd lied to me over and over again across the years, breaking every promise he had ever made. In the end, I threw him out. I'm sorry for that today. If I hadn't done it, he might still be around… and he wouldn't have gone back to you, almost killing you." She falls silent.

Chris clears his throat. "You did what you had to do, and I think it was the right choice. Alain wasn't reliable, and he wasn't really – clean of drugs. When we met by chance, he was unhappy and in a low place. But he only got back into my life because someone blackmailed him, and I guess for most of our time together, he was under enormous pressure. What he did to me was wrong, but I don't think he actually wanted to hurt me. I wasn't in a very good state myself, and he thought he could help me. His method, however…"

Carmen nods. "That's what I deduced from the interviews after his disappearance, when they asked me about Alain's state and business situation. I hadn't seen him for months at that point, and I didn't know what to tell them. But I finally learned about you."

Chris lets go of his cup at last. "Why did you want to meet me?" he says directly.

"I don't know," she says quietly. "I guess I wanted to get to know the man he'd been with before me – and after."

"Well, you have."

She frowns a little. "Maybe I sometimes wonder if I ever met the real Alain, or whether everything about him was a lie. Learning about you was a surprise, but at least you're real. A real person who related to him, who probably knows other facets of him than I did."

Chris could ask what she does, how she goes on living with Alain's fate still unresolved, what the boys’ future plans are, but there's suddenly a strong, clear feeling inside of him that no, he doesn't want this to go any further, doesn't want to have anything of Alain back in his life where it doesn't belong anymore. His ex had made his choices, Carmen had made her choices, and they all had more or less gotten what they'd wanted.

"I need to leave." He gets up. "The coffee's on me."

Her frown deepening, Carmen looks up at him. "Maybe more, another time?"

"I don't think so," Chris says bluntly. "Goodbye." He can't even bring himself to shake her hand, repulsed by the idea of physical contact. Her expression somewhere between hurt, confusion and slight anger, he takes that memory with him as he walks away.

When he gets home, Dael looks at him curiously, but he shakes his head, glad when she never asks.

Despite not having given his number to Carmen, she tries to call him twice but then he puts her onto his ignore list. Maybe the boys will enter Starfleet Academy, but he'll have long retired at that point.

He's happy to forget this whole episode.

***

The next days pass quickly, and tomorrow they'll be making The Call to their men, in which Dael will finally tell Jim about the baby. They're both a little on edge the evening before, going to bed later than planned, and he needs longer than usual to fall asleep. 

It had to be a few hours later when Chris wakes up to a sound in the adjacent bathroom. Instantly alert, he listens, waiting for the characteristic noises of Dael heaving up, but there's only silence.

There's too much silence, he realizes startled, and jumps out of bed.

When he opens the door, the bright red on the floor gives a strong sense of deja-vu. And then he sees Dael, curled between the wall and the toilet as a small, lifeless ball, and his inner walls snap up, all colors flushing out.

"Dael!" he rasps, taking her stained hands and lifting her face. Her eyes are closed and she's frighteningly white, her body unresponsive. On her oversized tee, there's some blood too.

"Dael! Talk to me!" he tries in a more commanding voice, although he himself notes the plain desperation in his voice, it has no effect on her.

Rushing out, he grabs his comm and sends an emergency call to SFM, code _010102_ for a life-threatening level one emergency, one person in danger, two to beam up. 

_Five minutes_ , they signal him back. Five minutes in which he grabs the next best thing to dress and puts their IDs in his jeans. 

The beam warning comes in three, and he's next to Dael again, holding his comm between them so that the operator can easily lock on his signal.

When they rematerialize, it's to a team of five people, four of which rush to Dael's unmoving body to start the emergency routine, while one woman leads him aside, taking care of him. With them both being frequent guests of SFM, the woman doesn't even ask for their IDs, only leads him to a nearby waiting room where she whips out a bed, telling him to take a nap. They’ll instantly inform him if there is any new information.  
 _  
_A nap is the farthest thing from Chris' mind, but the moment he lies down, his body decides that such a shock at three-o-fuck in the morning isn't tolerable, and sleep washes over him.

***

It's forty minutes later that he snaps up from the stupor, awoken by nightmares of an intensity he hadn't had since T'Sol’s intervention. He's still shaking when he gets up, the world strangely shallow and unreal, everything bleak and flat. 

For a moment Chris tries to bring back all three dimensions, but then stops the attempt – what good would it do if they brought any disastrous news about Dael? There was so much blood, he can't help thinking the worst. Pacing back and forth in the waiting room, he tries hard to rope in his thoughts of doom, but Leonard's prophetic warnings regarding Dael's health keep ringing in his ears. For a moment Chris really wishes Dael – and Jim, dammit – had been more careful, aside of the complications the pregnancy had brought to their planning… 

But this is pointless; she's got to live, she's got to, they'll be able to deal with everything else but if anything happens to her… 

Chris stops abruptly as a doctor walks into the room, heading right towards him. Letting his arms fall down to his sides, he braces himself for the news.

"Admiral Pike?" the man asks superfluously.

"Yes," Chris says tightly. "How's Dael?" 

"Fine, and sleeping off the sedation. We located and stopped the bleeding. It was caused by a subchorionic hematoma."

"And the baby?"

"Is safe. There was only a small danger of miscarriage."

A large weight drops from Chris' chest, and he takes a deep breath. "Thank you, doctor. Can I see her?"

"As I said, she's asleep, but of course you can visit her. We'd like to keep her here for the next several hours, just as a precaution."

"Good." 

"We moved her to another room. Please follow me." The doctor leads the way, and seconds later, Chris stands next to her. Dael still looks deadly pale under the tattoos, her tiny figure almost lost in the bed, and he gives the doctor a concerned gaze. 

"She's doing fine," the man says after a glance at the panels above her. "It was more the shock than the actual blood loss."

"If you say so," Chris says a little doubtfully. It had looked like a lot to his eyes, but he'd probably been a little shocked too. Catching her hand, he notices how cold her fingers are, and starts rubbing them. He sits with her for a while, until another doctor looks in and reminds him that if he doesn't take care of himself now, he'll likely end in a bed next to her. The man gives him a code to lock onto her panel and get an alert when she wakes up, so he can take the time to eat and drink something.

Chris knows the man is right, so he gives in to the advice and leaves the room for the time being. The cafeteria is already busy, and he feels strange in the sloppy tee and jeans he'd grabbed in the rush but nobody else seems to mind.

When he's through one cup of coffee and half a cheese bagel, he notes his blinking comm.

_1 missed long-distance call. Kirk, James T., NCC-1701_.

Chris sags back into his chair. Their pre-arranged call. The one in which Dael wanted to inform Jim about the pregnancy. Jim had left a text message, and Chris opens it.

_Anything wrong? You missed our appointment, and Bones just told me that he received notification that you engaged a medical emergency beam-up._

_Please, call us ASAP._

_Concerned, Jim  
_  
What shitty timing, Chris thinks blankly. They've got such a small contact window, and he can't leave SFM while he's waiting for Dael to come around.

But suddenly his potential saving angel is in sight, as his own current doctor, Ramon Fernandez, enters the room, apparently even on the lookout for him. The man rushes over to Chris. 

"I just was informed by a colleague," Fernandez says, shaking his hand and holding it in a warm, comfortable touch for a moment. "Glad to hear your partner is out of danger. Can I do something for you?"

"Actually yes. I'm in urgent need for a console that's certified for long-distance, high-security calls with ships."

For a second, Fernandez frowns in a way that could only end in a _sorry,_ _we don't have one available_ , but then he suddenly smiles. "I can't offer such a console here, but I guess my own should be enough to connect to your office, and you can get relayed from there."

"Damn, I should've remembered that myself," Chris says, shaking his head. 

"Shock and little sleep will do that to your thinking," Fernandez says. "I'll get you to my office with a fresh cup of coffee, and then leave you alone for the call."

"Brilliant. You're a life-saver," Chris says, relieved beyond words.

"All in a day's work." The doctor smiles.

*** 

"Chris!" Jim exclaims when they finally establish the connection. For a long moment they check him through the visuals, their shoulders slightly relaxing when he seems to be okay, but of course they also note the missing fourth of their cloverleaf. 

"Are you okay? And where's Dael?" Leonard asks.

"First of all, we're okay… now. There was an emergency and I needed to get Dael beamed in."

"What kind of emergency?" 

Even when initiating the call, Chris wasn't sure whether he should divulge the secret, but facing the question he decides that he will – it's long overdue anyway, and Dael would probably be relieved if he tackled this. 

"There have been pregnancy complications," Chris states.

He's not surprised to see two sets of jaws dropping, the eyes of his lovers widening when the word settles.

" _Pregnancy complications_?" Leonard repeats roughly. 

Chris nods. "That's the actual news we had for you – congratulations, Jim, you're going to be a father."

Jim looks absolutely star-struck for a moment, then he starts smiling, a deep, flaringly happy smile that spreads from his lips all over his face and illuminates his eyes to the brightest blue Chris has ever seen.

"Father?" Jim manages at last. "This is… I can't even… this is _awesome_. Fantastic!" 

There's not the least doubt that the news is ecstatically welcome by Jim, a fact that puts Chris's mind at peace; a small part of him had wondered whether Jim would dislike the news, considering what it might mean to his career. But at least right now, there's nothing but abundant happiness radiating from the captain. 

Leonard, as Chris had already assumed, doesn't share that level of happiness, but that might also have to do with Dael's state, because he says, concerned and wistfully, "Ah, I wish I had asked Dael to become her consulting physician too, then I could've had a look at her data. I'm not surprised she's having a hard time but I might've been able to help…"

"Bones - " Jim says and shakes his head. "I'm sure they'll look after her – and Chris is, right?" He looks back at Chris, a bit more composed again. 

"It's a boy, by the way," Chris says.

"That's... just whoa. And you're really sure it's mine?" Jim asks. "Because, well…"

"Natural conception couldn't happen with me."

"Oh?" Both men look surprised.

"It might not be in my medical file," Chris adds for clarification, "but I got myself tested a while ago. I can't be the father, and she verified that in hospital. It's got to be yours."

Jim shakes his head, then nods again, dozen of thoughts visibly running through his mind, mirroring in his features. 

"This is incredible," Jim mutters, absent-mindedly running his fingertips over his bottom lip. "This changes everything – _everything_."

"Actually, I thought it would only make our plans come to pass a few years earlier than we originally thought," Chris says lightly. "You know, the farm and family thing."

The lingering frown on the doc's forehead deepens over Chris' words, but Jim nods, the smile back full-fledged. "You really want that? I mean – it's such a fantastic dream, I never really thought it would happen, you know." Sobering once more, Jim says, "Are you really okay with all this, Dael carrying my child?"

Chris rolls his eyes. "How can you even ask such a silly question? If you care to remember, despite our partnership ceremony we're all in this relationship together and it's always been the plan to go official with the four of us in the future. So while it was a surprise to me, I don't see any reason why we shouldn't see our plan through. Get a farm, put you into an awesome career path on Earth and the doc on the fast track for the Nobel laureate, and raise a family with Dael."

"And what about your career?"

"I've been considering retirement for weeks, and I've decided to do just that." Chris waves his hand to sweep away all possible objections. "And don't think that's a sacrifice, I'm tired of the 'fleet and love the prospect of having some horses and a house-building project. After three decades of service, I don't mind trying something else for a change."

Jim happily beams at him, while the doc's face is still serious. Chris badly wishes he could have a moment just with Leonard, but doesn't know how to ask for that without making Jim feel uncomfortable. 

"Bones…" Jim says suddenly, looking to his side.

"If that's what you want, Jim, Earth and a farm and the four of us together there, it's fine by me," Leonard says simply. "Congratulations, lover-boy." He leans over and kisses his husband.

Afterwards, Jim looks a little flushed, clearing his throat. "When can I talk to Dael?"

"She's still asleep and I doubt she'll wake up before the connection window closes," Chris says apologetically, wishing he had better news. "But I’m recording this conversation and I think she'll be very relieved that you liked the news, and will send you a recording as soon as she can."

"Right. Yes. I'll have to wait for that," Jim says composed. "Only ten minutes left." He looks at his husband once again, then back at the screen. "There's so much I'd like to say to you, Chris, but I guess the two of you could use a few minutes to yourself. So – thank you so much for the news and for your support and your love and taking care of Dael. I'm going to pull all the strings I can to get us to Earth ASAP – maybe Illyon even still has that ground posting she offered to me."

"Oh – well, maybe," Chris says a little surprised; this offer is total news to him. Trust Jim to keep some secrets too. 

"Perfect. So love and kisses to Dael, I'm looking forward to hearing from her. Take care and we’ll be in touch soon." Jim gets up and after a last squeeze of Leonard's shoulder leaves the room.

The usual silence settles between them for a moment, before Leonard starts, "You're really okay with it?"

"Yes," Chris says. "As long as nobody expects me to become the father figure."

Leonard hums in thoughts. "Not feeling very fatherly, are you?"

"No. Maybe just a _not yet_ , but we'll see."

"Well, Jim's going to love that role," Leonard says. "No doubt about it."

"I didn't know he wanted children quite that much."

"I'm not sure _he_ knew – but if he did, he never shared it with me."

For another moment, they ponder the situation in silence. Then Leonard sighs. "Time's up in five. I'm sorry that I need a bit more time to deal with the news but you're right, we should be able to handle it just fine once the basics are sorted out." He smiles a bit, finally, and Chris answers the uplifting sight with a smile of his own.

"I'm sure we will. Love you, doc." Chris runs one hand over the cam in the virtual touch so often shared. "Hey, the idea of always having you here… it's great."

"Hmmm, having you around every day, yes, I don't think I'll mind that." Leonard's smile broadens, a twinkle in his eyes now as they both think of fantasies about their days… and nights.

"All the games we could play …" Chris puts a teasing kiss on his fingertips.

"Forget that for the first two years, because during that time, you'll be happy about every single minute you manage to sleep," Leonard says, lifting a warning hand. 

Chris chuckles. "The voice of reason – I'm sure we'll find a few moments to ourselves, with four caretakers."

"Hope always dies last." There's a slight beep. "Well, got to go, time is up," Leonard says. "Please keep me informed about Dael's situation, and maybe you can get her to sign me on to her case… if she wants to. Have a good time and you'll hear from us very soon, I suppose. Love you, Chris."

"Love you too. Take care, read you soon."

The connection closes, but Leonard's smile seems to linger on the dark-green, blank screen. With a sigh, Chris relaxes. Their conversation had eased most of his concerns, with the one remaining being Dael herself, with her challenging pregnancy. He looks at his comm, the small amount of information available about her state; she's not yet awake yet, so he calls Fernandez to inform him of the end of his call and then leaves the office to join her.

***

This time around, Dael's face has gathered a slightly rosy tint, and her breathing is less shallow, her chest moving up and down with every breath. Chris sits down next to her, taking her hand and caressing it. 

Damn, The Talk had really been necessary for his peace of mind, because it was the necessary _go_ signal. Now he could jump right into planning their future home, and having something to keep him occupied is exactly what he needs, a great change from the limbo of the last four weeks. 

"Christopher…" Her voice is still weak, but Dael's finally awake and looking at him.

"Hello, darling. So glad you're better," he says, leaning over to give her a kiss. 

"What happened?" she asks, then adds in sudden panic, "The baby…?"

"All fine," he says calmly, keeping her hand in a secure, supportive hold. "You were brought here in a medical emergency, but all should be well now. How do you feel?"

She ponders the answer for a moment, then shrugs. "Okay. Exhausted."

"By the way – you missed our conference call, so I decided to inform them on your behalf."

"Oh. What did they say?" she asks hesitatingly. 

"You can watch the recording when we're home, but Jim was absolutely happy. He's already making plans for their return to Earth."

Dael's face brightens over the news. "And Leonard….?" 

"As I already presumed, he'll follow Jim wherever he goes. And once he realized that being on Earth meant having more time with me, I think he came around to the idea."

Dael smiles. "He'll be great as a father. You all will, I've got no doubt about that."

Having enough doubts of his own, Chris just squeezes her hand.

"Let's see whether we can get a doctor to release you," he says, and walks out to find one. 

***

Chris doesn't really know what kind of messages Dael and Jim are exchanging, but they’re doing her good. In fact, now that everything is clear between the four of them, her health on the whole is improving. She's eating more normally and the number of unplanned, strenuous bathroom visits sharply declines. It makes him wonder how many of her pregnancy problems had been solely of psychological origin.

Seeing her flourish improves his own state, and so he puts some of his renewed energy towards exercising again, supported by a new trainer who knows about the limitations caused by his permanent health issues (no use in following his old workout plans when his body has changed as much).

Looking for their perfect future home, he's selected a few farms for closer analysis, the leading option a place that's not very far from Harms, who tipped him off about the opportunity. It's a large acerage, and they'd have to commit to cultivating half of it, while keeping the other half for wildlife. The usual mix for land in that region, and Chris isn't concerned about these restrictions. 

The retirement form is already prepared, he only needs to fill the _retirement effective from_ field and send it off on the day when their men are really on Earth. Nobody in the Admiralty except for Mori Illyon knows about his plans and Dael's pregnancy, and she only knows because of course she'd wanted to know Kirk's reason for accepting her offer at last. 

Chris isn't so sure about keeping the child a secret for much longer; he's already heard the first negative rumors in the mess hall about why the great Jim Kirk might want to ground himself on Earth, and he'd rather make the truth known. However, this would lead to more pressure on Chris and Dael, and the _Enterprise_ couple won't have that.

_When we're on Earth, there's ample time to go public_ , their men write in a joint message. _No need to feed you to the press hounds before that._

This currently leaves Chris still doing odd jobs at the Admiralty, but as nobody expects a lot from him anymore, Chris guesses that his actual retirement won't surprise anyone. He's basically wrapping it up, closing some half-forgotten files, cleaning up a few messy documentations, nothing really important.

And he's extremely fine with it.

***

It's a Thursday afternoon, when Chris finds himself at home in an empty apartment, Dael away with some task for Arissa, and he decides that this might just be the right time to start having some sort of sex life again. It's been on the backburner over the last weeks, in sharp contrast to the time just before, and by now his dick definitely wants some fun again. 

He strips and showers, then gets on the bed, taking the doc's (and his) favorite anal toy out of his nightstand, the one with the really gorgeous, sometimes torturous vibrations. Generously spreading lube over it first, he then angles one leg up and nudges the toy into his ready hole.

Chris sighs softly as it slips in and automatically takes the best position right next to his prostate. Lying back, he blindly takes the control and dials it up a notch. The vibration is arousing but still gentle, just the right level for a slow heating up. Curling his left hand around his dick, he slowly strokes it to full standing, thinking about his lovers. 

Ah, he really needs more cock in his life again. John had left for another preparatory mission just two days before Dael's news, and having taken Eric with him, Chris is bereft of any easily available dates. But just a few more months, and he'll have all the cock he wants within his greedy reach, both his men - Leonard and Jim. At times he can't quite believe yet that it's really going to happen, and wonders if the fates have yet another unlucky card in their back pockets with which they might spoil their plans.

So far, however, it looks as if he'll have lots of opportunities soon to suck dick and get dick up his ass, and have his own dick deep inside his favorite guys...

His fantasies are getting hotter by the second, embarking on memories of the four of them which had been quite the orgies, and then moving from there to some of the kinkier moments with the doc, remembering bits and pieces of their intense last weekend. It had been so full of sex that it's become quite the blur of snapshots; the doc fucking him tied up on the bed; the doc giving him that absolutely deserved beating; the doc riding him as a ready sex toy… 

With a moan, Chris curls to the right, letting his erection slip out of his fingers. _Too fast_ , he needs a break for a moment or he'll just come and then the fun would be over for the evening. 

It's when he's catching his breath, cooling down, that the quiet sound of the main door reaches his ears, followed by Dael's light steps in the corridor. 

It had been bound to happen, and he probably wanted it to happen… he still feels a little strange when she looks into the bedroom to find him like this, needy and horny with the toy in his ass. 

Not quite sure what exactly he wants from her either, he only quietly nods at her. Thankfully, she's cleverer than he is.

"You want me to join in?" she asks. When he nods again, an excited smile lightens up her face. "I'll be back in a minute," she says and vanishes.

Making himself more comfortable by putting his head into the crook of his right arm, he waits. Dael is back fast and settles, still fully dressed in jeans and a white shirt, next to him on the bed. 

"Lay back," she says, more a suggestion than an order, "and close your eyes."

Uncurling, he stretches out on the mattress, legs slightly angled to the sides, arms loosely next to his body. He's very hard, and can see her eyes resting on his groin. Still not knowing what she's up to, he dutifully drops his lids.

Something runs up his erection; it's not her hand but something else, more studded.

And then it starts to vibrate, and it's quite an effect; involuntarily coiling upwards with a low groan, he risks a gaze at what looks like a black glove on Dael's hand. It's a great feeling that instantly fuels his arousal to new heights, bringing a flood of heat from the tip of his erection down to his balls and the guiche piercing. 

"You like it?" her question drifts in from afar.

"I love it. It's fantastic," he replies throatily. It's also damn teasing and torturous, given that she's applying just enough pressure to make him grow even harder, but not enough to bring him off. Whenever he edges along his climax, she pulls back so that the vibrating touch merely ghosts along his pulsing member, only to come back for more when he's cooled down a little. By the fourth time he's quite ready to take over, but when he reaches out for his erection, she captures his fingers. 

"Not yet," Dael says, and this time it's more of a command. "Put your hands behind your head."

After hesitating for a moment, Chris shrugs and does as told.

"I'll go and have a shower. I'll be back in five minutes, and you're going to wait for me."

The command tone intensifies, and this time it works better on Chris. With an expectant smile, he relaxes into the pillow, looking forward to more of her ideas. 

Well, at least until Dael sharply dials up the anal toy's vibration, an action that elicits a rather unhappy moan from him. He'd quite forgotten what a beastie this toy could be that is now sending over-stimulating impulses right into his prostate, leaving him more on the suffering side. However, feeling committed to following her orders now, despite her walking out of the room and the controller of the toy still within his reach, he strains to keep his hands behind his head. 

All right. If this is their game tonight, he'll add a few more fantasies of his own. The doc had left all of their weekend playthings with Chris – collar, cuffs and belt – but he doesn't actually want to use them with Dael, that would feel wrong. It's enough to _imagine_ \- imagine his wrists being cuffed to the collar, his legs folded and tied up, ankles to upper legs in the doc's favorite bondage position, the one where Chris is a ready fuck-toy for his demanding lover. The fantasy brings another bout of heat to his body, as his legs involuntarily arrange themselves to meet his vision. 

Rubbing his ass against the mattress, Chris tries to relieve some of the burning tension from the nasty little vibrator, but actually drives it a little deeper, rides himself a little harder on it. Dammit, where's Dael anyway, didn't she say five minutes?

He must've muttered it aloud, because there's a chuckle, and he opens his eyes to find her standing in the door with a rather annoying smirk on her face. Chris frowns at her, and her expression instantly changes, settling into a more normal smile. 

"Let's try something new," she says and joins him on the bed, then scoots upwards to sit down on his face. When she settles into position, Chris can't help having a momentary, extremely repulsed reaction to the sight of her vagina. Having the doc do this is one thing – aside from the _Narada_ aftermath, Chris had never had a problem with getting fed some cock. But having a woman do this, forcing herself on him this way…

Chris roughly tears himself out of his funk and closes his eyes, giving Dael's clit a first tentative lick. She tastes perfectly neutral, not even a lot of shower gel; she's done a thorough job knowing that he still doesn't deal well with her natural odor, and he'd better do a thorough job himself now. Stupid reflexes be damned.

She rides him the way she loves it, though in this position that means he's not getting a lot of air, his nose buried between her folds. Still keeping his arms behind his head and willing to satisfy her, he does his best to bring her off. After all, that would finally bring his own release closer, and he's so ready for that.

Once she comes, he can't help himself anymore and quickly rolls them over, powerfully shoving into her. With just a few pushes, he's over the edge and comes so hard that his sight blackens for a moment, his world buried in the white noise in his head. When he resurfaces, he's thankful to find she has switched off the toy in his ass that feels a little raw by now, though that's mostly in his head. 

"Thanks for letting me do this," she murmurs, stroking through his hair. "I thought you'd hate it. You know you could've stopped me any time."

"Hmm, yes, I know, but a little challenge is good for me," he says, lying down at her side and fondling her stomach. His fingers slightly drift downwards, where her belly has finally grown a tiny bit – to him it's quite astonishing how invisible the pregnancy still is, despite her slim figure.

"Sometimes you're so strange," Dael says. "You're the only man I know who takes pleasure in enjoying things he doesn't enjoy."

"It's all about interpretation," Chris replies with a shrug. Overcoming obstacles, physical or mental, is something he'd always excelled at, whatever this may say about him, and while he'd needed a few years to bounce back from Nero, he's definitely back now, implant and medicine and constant surveillance notwithstanding. 

***

The search for a new captain for the _Enterprise_ turns out to be short when Spock, after thinking over the offer from Jim and the Admiralty for just two day, accepts the promotion. His decision is heartily welcomed in the higher ranks – of whom many, frankly, always had thought Spock to be the better officer of the two. While that's wrong in Chris' opinion, Spock would definitely make a great captain on his own accord, and if this brings Jim and the doc a little faster to Earth, all the better.

By now they're tentatively scheduled to arrive planet-side in just four weeks, which would go by very fast. 

Thinking about their future life and all the many possibilities never fails to bring a smile to Chris' face. 

***

"The problem's obviously been caused by an unexpected magnesium deficiency, so we gave her a shot to ease the problem," the doctor on duty explains in front of the door where Dael is being treated. "She'll get a prescription for daily doses, so the cramping should decrease."

Chris nods in relief. "It looked quite serious to me," he says, feeling a little strange in retrospective for having initiating another emergency beam-out to SFM. "Glad to hear it wasn’t a critical situation."

"Your wife has a high risk pregnancy, so it's good that you react fast, instead of sitting it out," the doctor says, comforting him. "Don't hesitate to do it again."

"Well, with our tendency to end up here, we probably have our own name tags on a beam console and a bed already," Chris says with a crooked smile. 

"That's what we're here for," the doctor says with a smile. "We're doing a last checkup, shouldn't take less than an half an hour. You could wait here or in the cafeteria…" 

"I'll wait right here", Chris says, waving at the chairs in this rather empty corner of the floor. The doctor leaves, and he sits down, pulling out the PADD he had the presence of mind to take with him, reading up on the new internal ground posting openings. Despite Mori having offered a position to Jim, Chris is always on the lookout if anything more interesting shows up. The list is quite short, though, and his thoughts stray.

Until two hours ago he'd really thought Dael was in a good state, before she'd started cramping so severely that he'd made another emergency call. Watching her being driven away by the medical team had made his heart sink, wondering whether the baby would really make it to the point of being able to survive a premature birth. Of course, Dael and Jim could always have another one, but it would change all their plans and make their new life together on Earth start with sorrow instead of happiness, something Chris would hate to see. But if despite her frequent checks here she could develop a serious sudden magnesium deficiency, he gets the feeling that the doctors don't quite know how to handle her case – not an uplifting prospect.

Fifteen minutes into his brooding, Dael joins him. She's still quite pale, and despite her repeated claims that she feels better, he's extremely protective on the way back, at home hovering over her as he puts her to bed, delivering tea and cookies to her nightstand.

"Really, I'm better, Christopher," she says once more with her eyes closed, her cool fingers finally warming up a little under his steady caress, but only when she's asleep does he allow himself to calm down a bit.

Eleven weeks in, about twenty-seven weeks left to go… he can only hope they'll make it.

***

Time flies, and with just two weeks left, they start to prepare the apartment, getting rid of some of the junk they'd collected over the last year, making room for two more people instead. Free spots in the main bathroom, free shelves in the kitchen, a new table with two comfortable benches for the terrace - they scale up a little, going from two to four with everything they consider necessary.

It's probably too much but for once, even Chris engages in nest-building behavior.

"They'll love it," he says when Dael shows him the first draft of a " _Welcome home_ " placard she intends to create. In the past, he'd disliked stuff like that, but he considers it an acceptable development to get more relaxed about these little ceremonial touches. 

Also, he won't tell anyone that he'd seriously considered buying black-market fireworks for the occasion, which might be more manly, but also a lot more stupid. 

They make love on their men's bed because they can, giggling when they shoot a funny picture of their out-fucked selves entangled in the bedding.

_We'll put on fresh ones tomorrow, promise! Hearts and kisses,_ they write below it, and send it off into space. _  
_  
***

It's a strange night that follows, the air outside sticky and humid, and for the first time in months Chris dreams about the _Narada_. Thanks to T'Sol – and maybe Alain – her dark, high ceilings are mostly just that, flat images that don't emotionally move him a lot anymore. But when he wakes up, there's still a bad taste lingering on his tongue, and after briefly checking on Dael, who's sound asleep, he gets up and leaves the bedroom.

A glass of water and a cheese snack from the fridge are a good start to get rid of the taste, but now Chris is overly awake. Looking for distraction, he goes to his console and surfs through the internal Starfleet news… and there's just nothing important, no big events, no new scientific insights. It's almost too quiet in this part of the universe, and he finally goes back to bed, snuggling against Dael before drifting into another, now thankfully dreamless sleep. 

His alert rings at 5.30 as usual (old habits die hard), and he gets up and has a shower, looking at his console in passing as it's still set to the internal news – and there the alert jumps at him, highlighted with a red frame. 

The _Enterprise_ is declared missing. 

There's no further information in this headline, though he knows the implications; contact must have been effectively lost more than two days ago, and the first inquiries had resulted in no information about the ship's whereabouts. Chris isn't surprised to find a message in his box asking him to meet Captain Illyon first thing this morning, and he's dressed up and ready ten minutes later, his inner walls quite on the rise already.

When he walks into the bedroom again, Dael is still sleeping. He sits down next to her and strokes her forehead, reluctant to wake her with bad news after their lovely evening, but he'd rather tell her in person than let her see it on a screen. "Dael - the _Enterprise_ is pronounced missing. I've got to report to the HQ." 

"Oh." Her eyes open a little first; then the gaze is suddenly more alert. "Is that bad news?" she asks. 

"Not really. You know the deal, they'll always raise that alert when they're out of contact for forty-eight hours. The _Enterprise_ has been pronounced missing several times in the past, and she's always returned in one piece." 

Well, a little banged up after the run-in with the Borg cube, but most people survived. 

"She'll probably turn up in a day, with Jim jeering at Starfleet for being over-nervous asses who don't trust him to bring his ship back," Chris adds.

"That's Jim." She smiles. 

"I'll talk to you later when I've got more information." He kisses her, then leaves home.

At Headquarters, he walks right into Ship Operations. In contrast to the usually calm, productive work atmosphere that rules there since his old friend Captain Mori Illyon had taken over the department, everyone seems to be on alert today, people rushing across the floor, hushed voices arguing intensely.

Mori instantly calls him into her office, making a minute for him despite the reigning stress, the two screens in front of her wildly signaling incoming messages for her to confirm. "Glad to see you, Chris, even if the reason for it isn't very nice. The public relations department has scheduled a press conference in half an hour, but so far we've got no information besides the official mission parameters, which was star-charting the unexplored sector 2479 PL. You'll find all information at your desk." 

"What can I do to help?" Chris asks.

Mori shakes her head. "I didn't call you for that, I only wanted to tell you in person that we’ll do anything to find them and –"

"Stop that," Chris says, interrupting her. "I want to do something. Give me some job in this. I've once waited for news from the missing _Enterprise_ while shuffling papers, and I'll be damned if I do that again."

Looking at him lost in thought for a moment, she slowly nods. "Well –" her eyes drift out of the glass walls of her office to the other side of the floor, where two people, a young man and a young woman, are busily speaking into headphones.

"Well need someone as 'fleet liaison to the families. Our usual team is a little depleted on that front, and while the two replacements work hard, they've only just begun. It would be good to have someone more experienced backing them up."

"I'd be answering calls?" Chris asks.

"For the officers' families only." Mori's expression turns serious. "Chris – I know this is personal for you. You know the _Enterprise_ people, not just Kirk and McCoy, and I'm really not sure it's a good idea for you take this job." _Especially_ _with your history_ , she leaves unsaid, and she may be right. However… 

"If that's the only way I can stay here and help, I'll do it," Chris states. 

His friend frowns at him. "And don't you have someone to look after at home?"

"Dael will understand. She's Starfleet too," Chris replies promptly. "Please - anything's better than just sitting around and waiting for a call," he adds, a little desperate now that Mori appears close to retracting her original offer.

But at last she gives in. "All right. Well, for all we know, Jim Kirk's going to turn up in a day and laugh in our face for starting the whole routine," she says, but there's an edge to her words. 

"What do you really think?" Chris asks, looking right into the captain's eyes.

"I don't know. It's happened before but… I don't have a good feeling this time." Mori shakes her head. 

Chris nods. "Same here." 

Mori straightens her uniform, gearing up to end their talk. "Well, we don't know a fucking thing yet, so let's just not think about it. There's no reason to cry wolf over the _Enterprise_. After all, she's got the luckiest captain in the whole fleet, and the best weaponry of the fleet."

The briefing is rather short. The last information before the lost contact included a reference to a possible magnetic storm, but Commander Spock's calculations had shown that it was approaching rather slowly and should pose no danger to such a well-equipped ship. The specialists at HQ have already surveyed the transmitted data and agreed with the Vulcan. 

Chris watches the press conference on the console he's been offered in the room with the two young officers, who are quite in awe that they'll get to work with him. Assigning Asimov to speak to the press is definitely a declaration of trust by Illyon, and Chris smiles a little, glad to have been of service to the young man's career with his recommendation some months ago.

In his usual organized way, Lieutenant Asimov presents the basic information and answers many questions, always quick to emphasize that this is a routine sequence of events and that ships are reported missing automatically after a set time, no matter their actual status. He also informs the press that four ships are being rerouted towards the sector to embark on a search.

What Asimov doesn't tell them but Chris knows all too well is that search missions rarely succeed in finding missing ships – they either turn up by themselves, or other ships run into the debris by chance. Space is an endless, dark void, and circling around the last known position of the Enterprise is likely lost time, but they have to do it. 

"I'll be here for a while," Chris says when he calls Dael afterwards. "I know this is bad timing, but –"

"I'll be fine," Dael says, her pale face filling his screen, her tattoos sharply angled in concern. "Arissa called me when the news went public, she'll be coming over. Hope that's okay with you."

"That's perfect!" Chris says in relief. He owes Arissa so much by now, there's no chance he'd ever be able to repay what this incredibly thoughtful woman and by now good friend has done for Dael and him. "I'm so sorry. I've been so wrapped up in the chaos here, I didn't even think of that." 

"I understand. She understands. We'll be fine. Call me if you hear anything new." There's a quiet plea in Dael's voice, _don't hide things from me no matter how terrible_ , and Chris nods. 

The day goes over in a blur of phone calls and arrangements, and when Ambassador Sarek of New Vulcan, currently staying on Earth, invites himself to a late dinner with the Admiral, Chris has no choice but to call Dael once more.

"It's going to be late, probably after midnight," he says. 

"No problem, Christopher. I can imagine that your day was hell," she says, placing her fingers on the screen. "We've been listening to the news all day – do you know anything more?"

"I wish we did, but all we know is that she vanished for no obvious reason." He's tired and high-strung. "See you later, Dael. And don't get too worried about it."

"You joking?" Dael makes a face. "Don't tell me you're taking it easy, because I know you aren't. I've been thinking about them all day."

"Don't do that. It only makes you go crazy," Chris states. He should know because he's done the same, of course. It makes him a good listener in the phone calls from the families he's getting in, like Chekov's mother or Scotty's sister, but it's slowly eroding his control, and he's got to keep a grip on the job at hand. It's strange – in contrast to his quickly raised protective walls when something emotionally threatening comes up, especially if connected to his past, this kind of slow-burning pressure and concern doesn't bring the same shifts to Chris' world. It means that the news reaches him much more unfiltered, and he's not quite able to distance himself the way he actually needs to. 

Chris sorely wishes T'Sol was still on Earth. 

Blinking, he notes that Dael is still on the line, quietly watching him. He clears his throat. "We're here, they're out there. We can't do a thing but wait and hope." 

She nods and signs off. 

The dinner with Sarek is even more strenuous than Chris would have thought. The Ambassador mostly speaks of Spock – that Spock should've stayed with the colony but returned to the Enterprise due to Selek’s interference, and that if Spock had done what Sarek wanted him to do, he would be married with children by now, keeping up the family tradition. 

Chris knows Spock and even more, he knows Nyota Uhura, and he doubts she'd have let Spock go that easily. Besides, after a whole planet being eaten by a black hole, the concept of planets being safe is out of the window. But by now, Chris feels indebted to Vulcans in general, not only for his original failure to stop the disaster, but also for all the support various Vulcans had given him and Dael, some quietly, some openly, and so he does his best to endure the talk with the man. He hadn't seen Sarek during the week he'd spent at the Vulcan Embassy in T'Sol's care, but he's sure that she'd never been allowed to accept him as an in-house patient if not for the agreement of her superiors.

When Chris drags himself home, it's long after midnight. They're still waiting for him, a half-asleep Dael curled into Arissa's embrace on the couch, a blanket over them. 

"Anything new?" Arissa asks hushed, nothing of her usual ease in her voice. Dael opens her eyes, her fear tangible. 

He wordlessly shakes his head before leaving to drop his uniform and take a brief shower. They all end in his bed with Dael in the middle, their hands protectively laced together on her belly.

***

Sleep doesn't come easily to Chris, and after a few hours of half napping, half lying awake and thinking too much, he gets up and leaves for HQ without notifying the two sleeping women. They can use all the rest they can get, especially Dael, who's looking far too exhausted to his eyes. 

The day brings more phone calls, and it's almost lunch time when one of the names Chris has been kind of waiting for pops up on his screen.

_Jocelyn Farmer, ex. McCoy_

The elusive Mrs. McCoy, he thinks and finds her to have a rather calm, gentle voice in the voice-only connection. She's not Starfleet, so she has a lot of questions about the process, and he explains to her that the search will go on for at least four weeks, and that nobody will be declared dead before some proof has been received. 

"Normally I wouldn't have called," she says at last, "but my daughter keeps asking me questions about her father and I don't have answers. And of course, she wants to know whether he'll come back."

"Your daughter?" Chris asks a little confused. 

"Yes," she says but doesn't elaborate. There's a pause and just when he wonders if she'd hung up on him, she suddenly asks, "Do you know him personally?"

"Yes."

"Is he happy?" 

Something churns in Chris' stomach. "Yes. He's been married to Jim Kirk for many years, has a successful career… yes, he's very happy."

"Oh –" another long, drawn-out pause. "God, I didn't know that."

She must be living under a rock, Chris thinks with a frown, shaking his head. Good thing she can't see him.

"I attended their ceremony, and it's been all over the news ever since." 

"I don't read that kind of celebrity gossip, especially not about Starfleet. I never knew he was… "

"Gay? He doesn't like labels – he just likes being himself."

"You know him really well, don't you?" 

"Yes." 

"Do you think he'll come back?"

Chris closes his eyes. "I don't know. I really don't. But my gut feeling is – no." He opens his eyes again. "I shouldn't have said that, Mrs. Farmer. I apologize. As I said, we don't know any more than the press does at the moment. I have your number now, and I'll call you back when we get new information, all right?"

"Yes. Thanks. And – I'm sorry for asking." She hangs up on him. 

A _daughter_? Chris calls up the doc's personnel file, but there's nothing in it about the doc having a daughter. If Mrs. Ex-McCoy ever calls again, he'd definitely have to inquire about this…. because the only way her statement makes sense would be if it's Leonard's daughter about which his lover had never learned…

***

Chris thinks about going home at 2000 when the news comes in that a piece of debris had been found two light years away from the _Enterprise_ 's latest reported position. At 2232, they receive the confirmation that the recovered metal piece has been positively identified as a part of the _Enterprise_. It's not from the hull but from deck ten, deep within the _Enterprise_ , and it carries a weapon signature Starfleet had recently encountered for the first time, on the devastated colony on Cestus III. The whole fleet goes to yellow alert because what looked like an isolated disaster at first suddenly appears to be the beginning of a conflict with a so far unidentified species. 

When Chris gets home, feeling raw and tired, it's once more to the picture of Arissa and Dael on the couch. It adds sharp guilt to his emotional turmoil.

"I'm sorry for having left you alone all day," he says as he sits down heavily on Dael's other side, opening the top buttons of his uniform. 

"Any news?" Dael asks, sitting up. His face apparently gives it away, because she freezes, inhaling sharply.

"Just a piece of debris," he says quickly. "They were definitely in a battle. But just one piece doesn't mean anything yet. Over Vulcan, the _Enterprise_ lost some sections but was still able to fly." Though they'd mostly been _outer_ sections, not an inner one like in this debris, but he can't bring himself to relate this detail.

Dael nods, visibly eager to believe him, but when Chris meets Arissa gaze, he can see that the older woman is much too perceptive. Her expression momentarily changes from concern to sad realization, then instantly back as Dael looks up at her. "Thanks so much for staying with me, Arissa. It's been of great help." 

"You want me to leave?" Arissa asks Dael, startled.

"You need to depart for the concert tour with _Mondrian_ in China in just six hours. I helped you plan it, remember?" Dael gets up. "They're waiting for you, you can't just cancel on them."

"True," Arissa concedes, unhappily looking at Chris. "I'm the tour manager, and I don't think they'll be able to pull it off without me, at least not for the first days. After that, it shouldn't be a problem." 

"I understand," he says. "I'm glad you had some time at all for Dael."

"Always," Arissa says, telling him in a quiet moment when Dael is out of hearing range – "If any of you needs my help, call me, no matter the time or day. I'll always be able to arrange something, I promise."

"I know. Thanks so much." Chris kisses her cheek, and she returns the gesture, breathing into his ear, "Don't give up hope yet."

He nods, then steps back to leave the last moment to Dael, who clutches her friend in a tight, almost frantic embrace. When the door closes, they look at each other like lost children.

"Come to bed," Chris says. After stripping out of uniform, he curls around Dael in their much too large bed, the ghosts of their absent men lingering around the edges. 

Not believing in a god of any kind, Chris has never prayed since the day he'd left home and he won't start now, but a part of him wishes he could, just to gain the illusion that some higher power would listen to him and care enough to bring their men home against all odds.

***

They are both barely able to sleep, so he's awake when further information comes in four hours later. 

There's more debris, and it's from various parts of the ship, which destroys Chris's last hopes. The first emergency capsules have been recovered, but most are empty and the other ones only contain the dead. They are identified as _Enterprise_ crewmembers. 

This at last raises his walls, turning his world to black and white.

At his side, Dael sleeps, arms curled around her middle. He needs to leave, but he can't let her stay here alone.

"Bring her in," Mori says spontaneously when he asks for her opinion in a quick call. "We'll find a corner for her."

Not wanting to have Dael listen to the calls he receives, he's glad when Mori finds a useful job for Dael, assigning her to a small team that analyzes background data from the relevant area. It keeps her busy and still under his and Mori's watch. 

Chris listens through the press conference and one too many meetings without really following the discussions, while taking more family calls that by now get more desperate in tone. Starfleet isn't ready yet to pronounce the _Enterprise_ lost, so he can't say how hopeless it really seems, still tries to find comforting words while knowing he won't last much longer. 

There's Jocelyn Farmer again, and she sounds resigned, more resigned than he feels. 

"Any news yet?" she asks, once more in a voice-only connection, and he shakes his head. 

"Nothing definite yet."

"But they've found debris. From inside the ship"

"Yes."

"Do you still have hope?"

He can't lie to her. "Frankly – no. I'm too much of a realist." Of course, there are minimal chances for survival, but he's seen to many ships getting lost to hang onto false hopes. 

"Mrs. Farmer – may I ask you a question myself?"

"Yes, please."

"Your daughter – is it Leonard's child?"

There's a brief silence before she says, slowly. "Yes. I never told him. I didn't want him to know, but when the news about his ship being missing came in, she overheard me taking to my husband about him. Of course, now she's asking a lot of questions about him."

"Why didn't you ever tell him?"

"I was in the middle of a terrible divorce. He was unbearable to live with after the death of his father, constantly drunk, so self-destructive… and jealous and hurt by something I'd done wrong. I'm not apologizing for having gotten a restraining order against him," she says, sounding vaguely defensive anyway, "it was the only way to make him stay away from me."

Even after the many years, Chris can hear the pain in her voice. It's clear that the separation hadn't been on a whim but was hard fought for. Not that he'd ever really expected anything else; he remembers the state the doc was in when he joined Starfleet, barely sobered up and always quick to lash out with words. The man had mellowed a little over time thanks to Jim, but they had all had their experiences with Leonard's sharp tongue.

"It terrible to watch someone you've loved in a downhill spiral without being able to help… and worse, being part of the problem. But from what you've said… he's different now, isn't he?"

"Yes. He's become a wonderful man, who is loved and does love in return. Still not always easy to handle, but we manage." Chris stops sharply; he hadn't wanted to turn this quite so personal, as she doesn't seem to know or even want to know about McCoy's life in the 'fleet. 

But this seems to have changed, as she replies without hesitation. "So it seems from what I could read about him… I'm glad about that. I really am." On the last words, her voice sounds suddenly off, and it takes him a moment to realize that she's possibly crying. "I need to sign off. It's been good talking to you once again. Thanks so much, Admiral."

"Same to you. I'll call you the moment I know anything more," he promises. 

When she closes the line, Chris keeps sitting and staring at the screen, the letters of his many messages one blurred smudge. Listening inside, he finds nothing but blankness, any part that could hurt right now hiding behind the strongest walls he'd ever experienced. 

*** 

An hour later he finds that his stability had been more due to Jocelyn Farmer's quiet composition than to his own control. Chekov's openly crying mother is on his line for half an hour and falling back into Russian most of the time, a language of which Chris doesn't understand more than _bortsh_ and _doswedanja_. And _vodka_ maybe, but he never liked that drink.

Thinking of drinking makes him think of Scotty at Jim and Leonard’s partnership ceremony and that's finally enough to fuck with his control and he takes half an hour off to shut himself into a toilet stall, doing nothing but sit with his face buried in his hands. The ever increasing feeling of doom permeates the kind of shields T'Sol had put in place for him, which had possibly been optimized more for momentary intervention than for dealing with this drawn-out, terrifying wait he's going through, and he wonders if they’ll hold and what might happen if they fall. 

"Are you okay?" Dael asks when he returns, waiting for him coiled on his chair. They've found her a male cadet uniform, it's too large and the pants pool around her legs. Folded on the seat as she is, he's got a deja-vu of the cadet he'd gotten to known back then, always defensive and not trusting the world. Now she's looking at him much less guardedly, her fear showing in her eyes. "I missed you."

"I'm okay," Chris says. "How about lunch? I badly need something." 

She shakes her head. "I'm not hungry." 

"I'm not hungry either, but my body needs some food. And yours too." _And the baby. The one thing left of them if Jim…_

He stops this train of thought, relieved when she changes her mind and joins him for a brief lunch. It tastes like cardboard; the world looks like cardboard; he feels apart from everything, even connecting to Dael almost too hard right now.

"Don't mind," she states when he apologizes for his behavior. "I feel the same." 

There's a call on his comm, _Join me in my office asap_ , Mori writes and Chris delivers Dael to her team before walking into Illyon's office. By now, she's set the glass walls to opaque – a worrisome sign. Most people of her team are gathered in the room, an eerie silence above them all.

"You look like death warmed over," are her first words to Chris, and he frowns. "But I can relate. Gentlebeings - we've got the first pictures." She zaps on the large screen behind her and no matter how many images have played through Chris's mind over the last days, seeing reality is like a gigantic punch to his stomach. On a rather dark, irregular planet surface, there is the saucer section of the Enterprise, crash-landed head down and torn apart into several large pieces. 

Like a cake fallen to a floor, he thinks. 

"From what the specialists have gathered so far, the Enterprise was partly torn apart by the enemy. They're not sure yet if the separation was planned or not, but the saucer section was pulled into the planet's gravitational field afterwards. They had no chance." 

_I'd follow Jim into hell and back_ , Leonard's words are ringing in Chris's ears. Looks as if it had been a one-way-ticket. His world by now one flat frame, he barely manages to find a chair and take a seat, his legs too weak to carry this weight.

"The pictures will be on the news in an hour," Illyon says. "The search and rescue ships are on the way, but I doubt they'll find anyone alive."

Chris nods mutely. The camera angle has shifted and he can see that the saucer section has only about half its original height – everything in it would be smashed, cut to pieces by the torn metal. He tries not to think in images but he'd helped retrieve bodies from shuttle crashes and these memories come suddenly alive with the dead holding the face of his lovers. He turns his gaze away from the screen, closing one hand over his eyes. 

"We haven't identified the attackers yet. The results from Cestus III didn't tell us a lot more than that they have warp capability and a high weapon power. They don't use Klingon or Romulan technology but come with their own…" Illyon's voice is floating away in his mind as she reorders the team, speaks about the upcoming press conference.

When he looks up again, the office is empty but for the two of them. Mori draws close, her usually composed face a valley of sorrow.

"I won't give up hope yet but…" She draws close, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Take Dael, go home." 

"There's nothing to go home for," he says, his voice echoing in his own head.

"But you shouldn't be here either. You know that the search can take a few days, the way she looks." 

Chris knows; the rescue teams will have to cut their way through every corridor and room of the Enterprise, slowly enough not to kill any unlikely survivor, fast enough to get through it all as soon as possible. 

"Please, go home for now," Moris says, and he gives in at last.

The way Dael sits curled on a chair, staring into thin air, tells him that she knows.

Asimov draws to his side, quietly saying, "I tried to keep it away from her but of course everyone has seen the pictures by now…"

"She's got the right to know," Chris says. He just wished he'd been with her for the news. 

"I'm so sorry," Asimov adds, and Chris only nods, then walks over to Dael. "Let's go home." Her eyes are blank, her voice flat as she reflects his own words of moments before. "There's nothing to go home for."

"There's the baby, Dael. This isn't just about us anymore, and we need to take care of him." Out of the corner of his eyes, Chris can see Asimov's shocked expression. "Come with me."

They go home, he can't even quite remember how, and there they sit down in the kitchen. They should do something, make food, but they're just two frozen figures, caught in emotional deserts in their own heads. 

Day turns to night and they still sit there, the silence of space surrounding them like their own graves. 

"Chris! Dammit, man, here you are." 

Chris looks up from his stupor when he hears his name being called. 

"Glad to find you at last. Why didn't you answer your comm?" John snaps at him. Eric stands next to him, the fallback keycard to Chris' apartment in hand. He'd forgotten that he'd given one of those to the couple.

"Why are you back?" Chris mutters. "Don't you have a mission to be on?" 

"Applied for emergency leave when the first news came in," John says. He looks them over, momentarily watching Eric trying to connect with Dael.

"Here's the deal – either we stay here, or you come with us," John states commandingly.

"Which would be the better idea, I'd say," Eric adds. 

Chris looks at Dael, and she looks back, unmoving. He thinks of empty rooms, all these ghosts residing here.

"We'll come with you." 

The couple helps them pack everything they need for a few days, then takes them with them.

***

Watching John preparing dinner in the kitchen, while Eric is taking care of Dael in the living-room, Chris says without preamble, "Dael's pregnant with Jim's baby."

John freezes. "Shit," he says and drops the knife, turning around. "Does Jim know?"

"Yes. He was about to resign, take a position in Mori's team. They'd planned to be on Earth in two weeks."

"Shit," John repeats, his usual coolness down the drain. He sits down heavily opposite to Chris, taking both of his hands.

"It just can't happen now," Chris says blankly. "Not now."

"You know how Kirk is – if anyone can pull off a miracle, it’s him."

Chris mutely shakes his head. 

 

Later the guys put them in John's large bed, promising to join them a little later. 

"I've talked to McCoy's ex, twice now," Chris says. He's on his back, eyes to the ceiling. For the first time ever, the idea of curling around Dael for comfort is too much for him; distance is the more secure option.

"And?" She's apart from him, her voice barely recognizable.

"She was very composed, very gentle." He can't talk about the doc's daughter – it's the kind of story that only adds to their complete loss. Better settle on a subject that is making him angry.

"And Winona didn't even call yet. She really doesn't give a shit about Jim." 

"Winona Kirk? Is she even still alive?"

"Yes, I've got her latest address." The distance breaks, brittle pieces that cut his skin. He curls to the side, burying his face against her shoulder, one hand on her belly.

Dael still stares at the ceiling. "We still don't know for certain. They might have escaped."

He just stays silent. She's been in command track – he doesn't have to tell her the chances of that. 

"You know how lucky Jim's always been," she says. 

He's run out of supportive verbiage; all he can do is to clamp his arm closer around her. 

"Natasha was right," he says at last. "I've never lost someone that close to me in space." 

Dael closes her eyes, lifting one hand to stroke his head in a helpless touch, and he can hear what she thinks, _I've lost everyone close to me already once_. He wonders whether that will make it any easier for her.

John and Eric join them and they switch off the lights but he doesn't fall sleep until the early morning hours, when it's almost time to get up again. He's got to leave for HQ, it's impossible for him to stay home, and they will understand. 

Chris closes the last button on top, eyeing his ashen face in the mirror. If there's a scale for heartbreak, it has gone through the roof already yesterday. He can't imagine it getting any worse. 

There's another press conference and more meetings and the screen in his office shows the numbers climbing as the search and rescue teams move through the crashed ship.

They reach the former sickbay on the late afternoon. When they send in a first list of identified bodies from there, he can't read it, is physically unable to open the message. He sits in front of the screen for half an hour, until there's a phone call and he takes it because anything's better than reading that list. 

He recognizes her voice even after all those years.

"Winona." 

"Christopher."

The silence is thick for a moment, then she asks, "Anything new?"

"What do you want to hear?" He'd sometimes imagined speaking to her, throwing all the things at her that she'd fucked up in his opinion, but he doesn't have the energy for that anymore. He's exhausted, and maybe he understands some of her reactions after George's death now.

"Did they find his body?"

"They haven't reached the bridge yet." He's not saying a word more than he has to. _If you want to know anything, fucking ask_ , he thinks.

"What about his –" she struggles with the word _husband_ , and he notices it – "Lord, it sounds strange – his boyfriend?"

Chris wants to say that he doesn't know either, he wants to keep pretending he doesn't have any information but then he opens the message whose bold subject line had stared at him for half an hour. He scrolls through it until he finds the line; the dead are sorted and numbered by their position in the ship, not by name. 

"#351; McCoy, Leonard Horatio, M.D. - chief medical officer – identified by positive visual identification."

"Leonard McCoy is dead," Chris says. "His body was found and identified. I just received the message." He's irritated about how level his voice sounds; he hadn't noticed that he is completely zoned out until this moment, had possibly been in that state for a while.

Positive visual identification, he reads again, surprised that there was something to look at, wondering if he could ask for a last look, then wondering if he'd be really up to it if he got the chance. He's feeling sick and drained all of a sudden and she's still on the line and not saying a damn word.

"What do you want, Winona? You didn't care about them while they lived, so why do you call now?"

"He was still my son."

"You didn't call him once since he started at the academy. Not. Once."

"I left Starfleet. I wanted him to stay out of it too. He only joined because of you – and now he's dead."

"Yeah, right, my fault." Chris laughs grimly. "Tell you what? I also brought him together with McCoy – his official _husband_ , and there's nothing wrong with that word. They were great people, and you missed the chance to meet them and talk to them and maybe find out what they might've been able to contribute to your life. So. Fuck. The. Hell. Off. Now."

Like a dam breaching, one emotion pierces through his shields from the inside out, creating a dozen holes through which his white-hot anger shoots, and he slams his finger onto the touch sensor to cut off the line, then bolts up from his seat, tearing his ear piece away and throwing it into the nearby wall. His fist is next to follow, and the pain that shoots up his arm reminds him that he's still alive, alive against all odds. It had been Jim rescuing him, the doc fixing him up afterwards, and now all he can do is sitting here, answering phone calls and reading the death rolls. 

_It's. Just. Not. Fair.  
_  
Chris sags down on one knee onto the floor, sucking in air so harshly that his throat hurts. The phone goes off again but he doesn't take it; it's enough to try and calm down without Winona getting a second chance of driving him mad. 

The two young officers in the room stare at him in shock, and it's that look that forces him to pull himself together. He's someone these officers look to for guidance and support, and he can't lose it. He gets to his feet.

"My apologies," Chris says, his back straight and his voice calm, and walks into the corridor, much too aware of everyone's gaze resting on him, compassion and sadness bathing him with every step. He flees into the empty emergency staircase, sits down on the stairs.

The comm unit shakes in his hand, and it takes him a moment to call up Dael's number. He'd promised to tell her. He had.

The first question of Dael is, "What happened?", and he can't get a single word out.

"I've seen the news. They were approaching deck seven, right?" she asks, hushed. "It's Leonard, right?"

Just a single word. He can manage that. "Yes."

"No..." Her voice is trembling. 

"Please, I can't talk to you now," Chris presses out. "We'll talk tonight."

"Yes. Yes, we'll talk." She's off the line so fast that he's thinking of calling her back, but what would they do but fall apart,, together and yet so distanced, and he really can't bear that now. He pulls himself up, straightening his uniform and returning to his desk.

Jocelyn Farmer's phone number is on top of his list, and for a moment he's close to asking someone else to phone her, but then he thinks, _I'm doing this for Leonard's daughter_ , and lets the computer dial her number. 

"Starfleet here, Admiral Pike," he says when a young voice answers his call. "Hi there…" He doesn't even know the girl's name, but this isn't the moment to ask either. "Can I please talk to your mother?"

"Are you calling because of my father?" the girl asks, and he comes to realize that phoning them might have been a bad idea. "Please give me your mother," he repeats gently but insistently, and she finally gives in and turns the phone over to her mother. When Jocelyn says _hello_ , he can hear her voice vibrating.

"I'm sorry," is all he manages to say, all other words lost somewhere on the way between his brain and his tongue.

"I instantly knew that this would be _the_ call," she says, her voice shaky. "Isn't it strange just to know? As if a phone could ring differently depending on the news." He hears her inhaling. "Thank you, Admiral, for calling me. It's been good talking to you. I was glad to learn that he had a happy life, after all." 

Behind her, the girl starts crying, and he wish he could say something meaningful, anything that would ease the pain, but he's too busy dealing with his own devastation. Whoever brought up the shit about shared pain being less pain didn't know shit.

"Good-bye," she says and closes the line. 

There's a cup of coffee on his desk, and he can't remember when it came in. 

"Hey, Chris," Mori calls him from the door, and he's looking up. "Go home. Take a break."

"Not yet." They are four decks away from the bridge, and he won't leave before he _knows_.

"It'll take them some hours to get to deck one," she states rationally, drawing close to his desk. "Go home, see Dael. You won't help anyone if you fall apart."

Chris's endlessly tired but moving would cost a lot more energy. 

"Get the hell out of here, and that's an order," Mori snaps. "I've called a cab for you, it's already waiting at the front door. I don't want to see your ass in here until tomorrow morning." She all but drags him out of the door and shoves him into the lift.

"And – I'm sorry, Chris. Really damn sorry," Mori says when the turbolift door closes between them.

John isn't home when he enters the apartment, but Eric waits for him,

"I'm so sorry," are the man's first words, before he takes Chris into a tight embrace.

"Thanks," Chris barely manages to reply. "Where's Dael?"

"I put her to bed. She's in bad shape." Eric looks concerned. "I tried to make her eat something but she didn't have more than a forkful of noodles before stopping."

Chris rubs his forehead. At last, one problem he could help solving. "You got any Romulan food here?" 

Eric shakes his head. "No."

Unable to imagine going out for shopping, Chris calls the one restaurant in the city that offers some of her preferred dishes. They can't deliver at the moment due to a technical problem, but Eric promptly volunteers to pick up the meals.

After this last task, Chris feels drained. With the last of his energy he undresses and joins Dael in bed. He pulls her in his arms, holding her. 

Her eyes on the ceiling, she doesn't quite acknowledge his presence for the longest time. "It can't happen. It can't," she whispers at last. "He was so happy to be returning to Earth. He loved you so much." 

"I know." 

"This is a dream, and we'll wake up."

Chris stays quiet. 

She curls into his arm, and there's a slow tremor in her body that doesn't stop when she falls asleep next to him. 

*** 

The search teams reach the bridge early the next morning but everything's so smashed, none of bits and pieces of bodies can be identified right away. Even getting hold of the necessary tissue samples drags on, and the first identifications come in hours later. By then Chris opens every message right away, because he's at the point where he just wants to know, instead of holding on to a vain hope for even another second.

He's still hoping a little while, as the list starts to get filled with names but Jim's not in it yet. The small spark dies in the evening, with the last position in the current list, the letters burning themselves into Chris's eyes.

"#1278; Kirk, James Tiberius – captain – identified by genetic sample (double checked)"

He drives home, holding Dael when he delivers the dreaded news in person, sitting down with her on the floor when she falls into the stupor he already knows from himself, pulls her close and strokes her head for a long time. He feels blank, out of his mind. 

John and Eric put them to bed, and it's good to be here with them and not at home where the empty _Jim &Bones_ room would loom, all the promises they'd made, all the hopes they'd had. Tonight, Chris is a shell around a broken heart, washed away, and there's nobody who could reach him, the walls like glass, so hard.

He's not sure he'll be able to break out of them come morning.

***

But the next morning, Chris accepts that it helps to _know_. Most of the lists are complete, only five percent of the crew couldn't be accounted for and Chris hopes that they'll find the remaining dead soon too, because otherwise there'd always be a bit of useless hope left in the families. It is really better to know, even if it breaks something inside them all.

They'd lost so much, but at least they have the baby, and a part of Jim Kirk would live on through them, one small hope in these bleak times. 

He thinks he's through the worst of it, until Illyon sends a notification of a briefing on the topic of messages they retrieved from personal tricorders. There's a list attached, and Chris feels his chest tightening as he sees "McCoy, L." listed right next to Spock's name, plus a couple of names that don't mean anything to him. A minute later, Illyon tries to recall the message but he'd already confirmed his attendance.

She calls him. "It was an error. You shouldn't attend, Chris." 

"I want to know what happened, Mori. Is that too much to ask?"

"No, but trust me, you don't want to listen to those, at least not right now. Let me send them to your desk in a while."

He looks over, through the glass walls between the offices, and sees her in the distance. "You'd let me sit here outside while I know that you're listening to their last messages, the ones that could tell me what happened? Do you think that would really hurt less than just joining in?"

He can almost hear her eye-roll. "Yes, I think that. But if you want to attend, feel free," Mori states sharply. "Just don't blame me if you can't deal with it."

"I won't, and I'll be able to deal with."

"We'll see," she says and signs off. 

***

"As you know, the official log and the captain's personal log haven't been found yet," Illyon states after opening the meeting, looking at the twelve people sitting around the table with a large translucent holoscreen in the middle. 

"However, the search teams have managed to find several tricorders, and could reconstruct the messages on nine of the eleven ones they found." Mori presses a button and the list shows up. 

"Of the recovered messages, several are of private nature. The interesting ones are from Lieutenant Commander Spock, Doctor McCoy and Lieutenant Farbery. Spock's remains were found on the bridge and the tricorder would've probably been smashed there, but Spock was clever enough to throw it into a nearby recycle pipeline where the crash was dampened by soft material. He was always brilliant, right down to his last minutes." Mori clears her throat. "Doctor McCoy was in sickbay, which was one of the very few areas that were not crushed. Engineering was running an experiment on partial, self-sustaining shielding for that part of the deck, which resulted in the bodies being almost intact. The cause of death in that area was toxic smoke and the loss of oxygen." 

_He suffocated_ , starts running through Chris's mind in cycles like a broken tape, and he wishes he'd never learned that because it isn't a comforting kind of death. 

"Lieutenant Fabery was one of the few survivors in the main weapon control after the attack. She's given us information about the enemy's fleet and weaponry."

"A fleet?" Chris looks up. 

"Our current information is that the _Enterprise_ was pulled into the natural magnetic storm and was thrown out of its stream right into the gathering of a small fleet of our still unidentified enemy. It is not clear yet how the fighting started, but the Enterprise had no chance against them."

_Kobayashi Maru at last.  
_  
"I sent the information to your desk two hours ago," Mori says quietly, addressing only Chris. 

"Oh." He hadn't seen it. It says something about his state of mind. "I apologize."

"It's all right." Illyon moves back to the tapes, and they listen to Fabery first. Her voice is young and very controlled under the circumstances. She delivered a detailed analysis of the enemy's weapon system into the tricorder, downloading the data before the _Enterprise_ ' computer system went down. It would help the analysis of the enemy enormously. 

Spock's recording is hard to listen to, not only because it was the most damaged of all. There are parts missing, and Spock had been audibly in pain. 

"This is the first officer Spock," the dead man's voice speaks into the silent room. "I'm on the bridge, and the only officer still alive, thanks to my dual heritage. I will list the names of the dead," the voice proceeds, and lines them up, starting with Jim, going steady over the junior officers, breaking a little over Uhura's name. Spock then goes into details about the enemy and their ships, stating that they were immediately engaged in a fight. The ships were apparently ready to head to a nearby Federation planet for an attack. The separation of saucer and warp nacelles had been necessary due to irrecoverable damage to the latter. At last, Spock stated that he'd try to eject a buoy with the official recordings and the captain's log. He didn't sound good at this point, the breathing harsh and painful, the speech interrupted by coughing and squeezing. They're listening to his death fight, and Chris sinks deeper in his chair, trying not to imagine the scene in vivid details, the destroyed bridge, the dead all around.

_Jim_. 

Suddenly, the recording stops, and he looks up. 

"We don't know yet if he managed to eject the buoy. The recording ends at the point where the Enterprise was sucked into the gravity of the planet."

Mori moves on to the next tape, and Chris clamps his fingers around the armrests.

"This is chief medical officer McCoy, sitting in Sickbay, stardate… don't know. We've been under an extremely severe attack and it looks as if the enemy succeeded." McCoy sounds exhausted, and there's an edge of pain too. "I downloaded a bunch of information from the bridge before the main computer went down, some tactical stuff but mostly the recordings Uhura made of their transmissions. This should help the analysis of who they are." McCoy coughs for a moment. "Sickbay shields have been tripled in strength over the last month, in an experimental procedure developed by chief engineer Scott and Mr. Spock. It looks as if this makes us the last people standing. We have no information about other parts of the ship, as everything is shut down and the doors are blocked. Gravity's mostly off, so everything not strapped down is floating around. I've calculated the remaining oxygen will last for another hour – unless the enemy takes us out before. In the prospect of that, the team has sedated all patients. No need to live in panic through what might be their last moments." McCoy's recording stops, as if something was cut off.

Illyon moves on to Uhura's language recordings found on McCoy's tricorder. A linguist is brought in to explain some aspects of the strange, new language, and most people around the table engage in a discussion about it. Finding that he doesn't really care a lot about this aspect, Chris starts counting the minutes. It was less hard than he'd expected to listen to McCoy's recording. It was delivered in a rather composed and professional manner, just as could be expected from a weathered CMO, and that helped keep the emotional impact at a distance. And also, his walls are incredibly thick and strong, a state he barely notices anymore as it has been so common for days already, the voices of the others nothing but a dampened-down background track to his color-drained world.

When the meeting wraps up, he wants to leave but Mori gestures him to wait.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Most of the people in sickbay left some last personal messages. There are two private messages from McCoy," she says. "One is for you and Dael – one to Jim Kirk, who was already dead when McCoy recorded it. As you and Dael are on his _next of kin_ list, they're both for you."

Chris closes his eyes. 

"You can either listen to them now, or I'll send them to your desk in a week."

"Why?" He's confused about the proceedings, but she shrugs. "Not going to let you listen to them alone at the moment."

Chris probably shouldn't do that, but once again the need to know tops everything else. "All right – let's listen."

She takes a seat next to him. 

"The next is a private message by regulations 334.3," McCoy's bodiless voice says once more, obviously proceeding from the other recording. "It's for Chris Pike and Dael. As it looks, we won't make it to the birthday party, and that's a damn shame." McCoy tries to take a light tone, but fails completely. "I think you'll make wonderful parents, and if there's a heaven, I'll make sure to look down once in a while." There's a pause with only McCoy inhaling audibly. "And if Jim manages to record some last words, don't let the kid ever hear them. It's just not good for the soul. Love you both so much. Take care, Chris, and give Dael a kiss from me." 

There is another break, before McCoy starts again, "The next is another private message by regulations 334.3, for Jim Kirk. Hey, if you manage to survive this shit, and I don't, please go on living and don't do the same crap your mother did." McCoy pauses, clearing his throat. "I've sometimes wondered what you'd tell the person you love when all you've got are a few more minutes, and it still boils down to the essentials – I love you so much, Jim, you're the best thing that ever happened to me. And knowing you and your famous luck, thinking of you getting out of here alive is the one thing that's keeping me upright and fighting till the last minute. Never a no-win situation in your book. Love you for that, Jim Tomcat Kirk. Take care."

Illyon turns off the recording, but not fast enough to cut off the smoke warnings McCoy started to shout at his people right after the last words to Jim. 

Chris has forgotten how to breathe. Just a few minutes ago he'd thought he was protected from the pain but he was wrong. To his mind, McCoy is suddenly dying right now, at the other end of that recording. Time has no meaning here. He's stopped breathing, and only starts when Mori suddenly shakes him.

"Hang on, Chris. Hang on, man! Dael needs you, and the kid will too."

Mori hugs him, and Chris wants to cry so badly but he just can't, his emotional devastation neatly confirmed in his mind's version of a forcefield. 

"Go home. Take a week off. We'll manage without you. I'll send locked copies of the recordings to your desk. Since they're private messages and don't include anything relevant for the investigation, they won't go into the official case file." Mori looks at him. "And as for your retirement form, put it on hold for a while. You can always send it in later, but you'll be in a better position to get information if you stay in the 'fleet for a bit longer."

Chris mutely nods and leaves the Admiralty, but then finds he can't just go home, whatever place that should mean. Wherever he goes, he encounters memories of them, the whole damn city was theirs, and even the desert had become Jim's. 

He sits down at the small pond near his apartment house, watching the ducks, thinking back to the talk he'd had here with Jim, about the failed mission on Aranka and the impact on the couple. 

_I've been his anchor, his promise. It's my job to keep him safe. I failed.  
_  
Chris looks into empty air. "No, you didn't," he whispers. This time, it had been a no-win situation, that sometimes happen, like the one they'd flown in over Vulcan... back then, when obviously only the name _Enterprise_ had stopped Nero from blasting them to bits.

Looked at it like this, they've all lived long beyond their time. 

When he looks to his left, Dael is sitting there, all white and black, knees drawn up against her chest, arms tightly curled them.

"Are you real?" he asks.

"No," she says. 

"Okay," he says and looks back at the ducks. Night slowly falls.

"I’ve decided nothing is real right now," she adds a long time later. "It's easy, once you believe it. This is just not my life. I'm going to reinvent myself again. I'm going to fly away. Let me show you." 

And gets up and walks right into the pond.

"Fuck…!" Shocked out of his funk, Chris rushes after her. When he gets to her, her clothes are already soaking wet, her body cool to his touch.

"Dael, don't do that to me!" he snaps at her, shaking her by her upper arms.

She closes her eyes, leaning against him. "I want to go home."

"Home to where?"

"Our home. Our apartment. We still haven't put fresh sheets on their bed…"

In bone-deep desperation, he pulls her close, pressing her head against his shoulder. If she breaks… 

"Okay, let's go home."

He takes her up to their apartment, puts her to bed. Removes her _Jim &Bones_ painting from the bedroom because he can't bear it himself, then goes to phone John and Eric, lying that they'd be alright, that they just need a break.

He sits in the chair in his bedroom all night, guarding Dael's sleep. 

In the morning, she doesn't seem to remember the events at the duck pond and how she'd even gotten there. She's extremely withdrawn but not out of her mind, and so they start to function like two good little soldiers, making the necessary arrangements, eating when they should, sleeping too much.

Their friends hover over them but they're in their solitary little rooms with large walls around them, connecting in the corridor of ache. 

***

It's the day of the memorial ceremony for the _Enterprise_ , and Chris dresses up in his best uniform. It hangs loosely around his body; he's lost more weight. Dael's lost weight too, but the baby bulge is starting to show anyway. 

He drives her to the memorial grounds at low speed and with extreme care. Over the last week, Chris had developed a deep fear of losing her. She isn't just his partner anymore but also the keeper of Jim's legacy. The captain's log is gone, the buoy destroyed beyond recovery, and there's no body of Jim to bury. Everything the two men owned and kept on the _Enterprise_ is gone. There are the messages, but besides them, there's so little left. 

They are still seated in the parked car when he says, "If we meet Winona Kirk – and I bet she'll show up somehow – under no circumstances must she know that this is Jim's baby."

Dael looks at him, the tattoos a sharp black on her white face, dark rings under her eyes. "But she's the only grand-mother the child would have –"

"Under – no – circumstance," Chris repeats with emphasis. "She thinks it's my fault that Jim is dead, because I made him sign up for Starfleet. If she wants something – like the kid – she’ll be willing to go to court to any length, pull any string she might be able to pull. We promised Jim to take care of the child, and if we want to honor that promise, she cannot ever know the truth. Promise me, Dael. _Swear_ it to me that you'll keep it a secret from her and anyone else who doesn't need to know in a medical context."

"You've gotten a little crazy when it comes to the child, haven't you?" she states with a growing frown.

"Jim told me once that on a scale from one to ten of a fucked-up childhood, he considered his to be an eight point five. He didn't complain about it, at least not to me, but I know that all he wanted was to see _his_ songrow up in a better way. Winona basically ran away from everything – the fleet, the kids, her second husband – but always thinks that it's everybody else's fault if things go wrong. If we meet her, you'll notice how she's always blaming someone else." 

"You hate her."

"I barely know her. But I know Jim's files, the official and the unofficial ones." 

She puts her head in her hands, massaging her face. "All right. I promise. I _swear_ , if you need to hear that."

Chris takes her hand. "Thank you. Yes, I'm a little crazy when it comes to the baby. Protective of him – and you – in a way I've never felt before. And as you probably wouldn't want to see me on trial for murdering Winona Kirk over a battle for child custody, it's better to keep everything a secret." 

"Yes, Christopher. I understand." She says it to take the edge off him, but the words are toneless. 

He looks at her. "You're looking so very tired, love. Just this service, and then we can drive away, leave the city."

"You really want to leave the ‘fleet," Dael says, more a statement than a question.

"Yes." He lets his gaze drift outside. There're a lot of people coming together now, and he suddenly wonders if Jocelyn Farmer is attending. "I'd rather leave today than tomorrow. I'm done."

"You don't want to stay for the investigation?"

"They'll manage without me, and it doesn't make anything better anyway. And frankly, I'm not sure I'd survive a second round, reading through all the documents, listening to the recovered messages – everything."

"You did that for the Kelvin."

"I did it because I barely knew any of the dead. But this time – no. It's someone else's job. Some young recruit who's never heard of them except for in his textbook, ready to write a thesis about them."

She pulls him closer, and he curls at her side, resting one hand on the growing belly. "I'll ruin your dress uniform," he says. Outside, there are bells ringing and he knows they should get up and out. 

Suddenly someone knocks on the car roof, and he jerks up. It's an unknown woman. A middle-aged woman with a young daughter. It seems his question is answered. 

He gets out of the car in haste. "Mrs. Farmer," Chris says and shakes her hand. "My condolences for your loss." 

"For all I know, I should console you, not the other way round," she says, holding his hand in a gentle grip. She's of Leonard's age, with dark-blonde hair, a good-looking woman. "Admiral – I know that you probably shouldn't have stated on our very first call that you thought him lost, but it made everything after that so much – less painful, somehow. Thank you for that."

Chris's looking over her shoulder, seeing Dael freezing over her statement. 

He turns around to the girl. "Hi there," he says and offers his hand. She's not saying a word, clutching her hands behind her back without touching his.

"She's not dealing well," Jocelyn Farmer says quietly. "Looking back, I probably should've allowed him to stay in her life, but seemed so much easier back then to really cut all contact. I always thought that one day when she was old enough, I'd tell her and then it would be her free decision to see him, if she wanted to. But now…" She averts his gaze, and suddenly notices Dael.

"My partner, Dael," Chris says, and the women shake hands. Mrs. Farmer looks a little surprised, like most people do when they first meet Dael with her facial tattoos, but she doesn't look the least dismissive. 

"I was also a good friend of Leonard," Dael says. "I miss him so very much." Her face is like stone, a clear signal that all her own safeguards are up, her emotions sharply roped in. Chris decides this is the right moment to steer all of them towards the memorial center. "We need to take our places," he says. And then adds to McCoy's ex, "I'd like to stay in contact with you – if you agree."

"Yes – yes, I'd like that," Jocelyn says. She takes out an old-fashioned paper card. "There will be a family gathering next weekend, down in Georgia, with a little funeral ceremony. You're very welcome to attend, both of you." 

He takes the card with the information. "Thank you – we will consider it."

"Maybe we'll see each other later at the reception." She waves after them, clutching her daughter with her other hand.

"I doubt we'll be there," Chris mutters. 

"She seems okay," Dael says when they walk to their assigned places. "I think I imagined her to be – nastier. Hateful. Something like that." 

"I have no doubt that the divorce was nasty, but it takes two to tango. McCoy could be hard to bear at times, and from what I know, he'd been going through an extremely bad time before she gave up and left him."

Chris is looking out for their seats, and is thankful for someone's foresight because they've got seats at the outer left edge, which they'd be able to leave at any time. 

"Why didn't you tell me about your bad feelings right after the Enterprise went missing?" she asks in a whisper.

"What should I have said? It was only a gut feeling."

"But you told _her_."

"It happened in a call. I didn't plan for it."

"And did I get it right – this is Leonard's daughter?"

"Yes, but he didn't know. I was going to tell you later."

The music starts, and Dael falls silent next to him. The ceremony moves through the usual steps, eulogies and more eulogies and all names being read. Then they salute the Federation and Starfleet flags, and when it's all over, he's quickly taking Dael back to the car, both unwilling to speak to other people.

Chris had just opened the doors when _she_ comes around the corner. She looks like he'd imagined she would, not much changed except for the wrinkles. She has that type of well-aging body.

"You're taking flight, Christopher? Not a word of condolence to the mourning mother?" Her words are biting, spiteful.

Chris gnashes his teeth. "Dael – this is Winona Kirk. My partner Dael." The women shake hands, but in stark contrast to other meeting, Winona is blatantly checking out Dael, from head to toe and up again.

"You've developed strange tastes, Christopher. From men to Romulan cyberpunks," she says as if Dael isn't right in front of her. Then she looks down again and adds, "And congratulations. Finally a little Pike to invigorate the world. Another future cadet – for we all know how much Christopher loves the fleet." Her voice grates on Chris's nerves. 

"Don't you?" she addresses him directly, and he shrugs.

"Oh." Winona's eying _him_ now, her gaze sweeping all over him. "Ah. Guess your shining armor is a little bumped up. And all because of one ship."

"Are you done? We've got to leave." he says.

Winona blocks his way to the car door. "I did a little research, Admiral. About my son and his doctor. And it seems that wherever I looked, the two of you kept popping up too. Spent a lot of time with each other, whenever possible."

"Get out of my way, Winona," he states coolly. He's got to look down on her, but she's a force to be considered just by her belligerent, acrimonious personality. 

"So maybe this isn't your baby after all. We all know how bad all those radiation in space is for a man's sperm quality. I'm actually surprised you still seem to get it up at all." 

Chris incredulously shakes his head. "Don't you have anything better to do right after the ceremony for your son than to insult me?"

"I don't think so. Without you, he wouldn't have been up there and gotten killed, like George."

"No, without me he would've ended like Sam," slips out of Chris' mouth. 

This at last makes Winona halt in her vocal ambush. "Sam? Nobody knows where Sam is."

Dael meets Chris's gaze, and he shrugs. If she wants to deliver the bad news to Winona – he won't. 

"Jim found out," Dael says, addressing the woman. "Sam's dead, we've been to his grave."

"Bullshit. Nobody ever found Sam after he'd left," Winona says sharply. 

And for a reason, Chris thinks.

"He's hiding, and I'm sure he'll show up one day."

Dael shakes her head, visibly shocked by Winona's attitude. "You know what?" she says blankly. "Go to hell. We've got to leave, and we've got no business with you." She walks around the car, and is ready to get in when Winona grabs her arm. 

A second later, Winona is sitting on the ground, holding her chin. "You punched me?" she mutters in disbelief at Chris. 

"Yes, and it feels as if I'd been waiting to do that all my life." Chris smiles brightly, dangerously. "As my partner said – go to hell." They get into the car and drive away without looking back.

Dael puts her hand on his lap, her face quite waxen but a small smile on her lips. "Jim would've loved that," she says. "You would have been his hero." She shakes her head. "You were right to warn me, she's really not someone to have around."

"Here's to you, Jim!" Chris lowers all the car windows and switches on the radio, twentieth-century-station. "Hope you saw it, lover-boy."

They speed over the highway, the music loud and heavy, and they don't stop before they're deep in the desert, where they tear away their dress uniform jackets and watch them burn to ashes. 

***

The morning finds them coiled together on the back seat of his car, and Chris moves a little, feeling stiff and worn-out. The night's feeling of freedom and strange victory dissipates in the sunrise' cool air. 

In fact, it's not just the air that's cool, but the body in his arms… 

It's cool to his touch too.

He freezes in shock, unable to parse… unable to breathe…

The world turns into slow motion. He initiates emergency procedures. He shouts, he cries, he begs, he kisses her lifeless face.

They beam. People move, someone holds him. A white room but nothing to wait for. Nothing to hope for. 

Blank.

*****

Chris snaps up from the stupor, awoken by nightmares of an intensity he hadn't had since T'Sol’s intervention. He's still shaking when he gets up, the world strangely shallow and unreal. For a few agonizing minutes he engages in thoughts of doom, before the door opens and a man enters.

"Admiral Pike?" the doctor asks.

"Yes," Chris says tightly. "How's Dael?" 

"Fine, and sleeping off the sedation. We located and stopped the bleeding. It was caused by a subchorionic hematoma."

"And the baby?"

"Is safe. There was only a small danger of miscarriage."

A large weight drops from Chris' chest, and he takes a deep breath. "Thank you, doctor. Can I see her?"

"As I said, she's asleep, but of course you can visit her. We'd like to keep her here for the next several hours, just as a precaution."

"Good." 

The doctor leads the way, and seconds later, Chris stands next to her. Dael still looks deadly pale under the tattoos, her tiny figure almost lost in the bed, and he gives the doctor a concerned gaze. 

"She's doing fine," the man says after a glance at the panels above her. "It was more the shock than the actual blood loss."

"If you say so," Chris says a little doubtfully. It had looked like a lot to his eyes, but he'd probably been a little shocked too. He sits with her for a while, until another doctor looks in and reminds him that he needs to take care of himself. 

Knowing he should heed the advice, Chris leaves the room for the time being. The cafeteria is already busy, and he feels strange in the sloppy tee and jeans he'd grabbed in the rush but nobody else seems to mind.

When he's through his small breakfast, he notes his blinking comm.

_1 missed long-distance call. Kirk, James T., NCC-1701_.

Chris sags back into his chair. Their pre-arranged call. The one in which Dael wanted to inform Jim about the pregnancy. Jim had left a text message, and Chris opens it.

_Anything wrong? You missed our appointment, and Bones just told me that he received notification that you engaged a medical emergency beam-up._

_Please, call us ASAP._

_Concerned, Jim  
_  
What shitty timing. They've got such a small contact window, and he can't leave SFM while he's waiting for Dael to come around.

But suddenly his potential saving angel is in sight, as his own current doctor, Ramon Fernandez, enters the room, apparently even on the lookout for him. 

"I just was informed by a colleague," Fernandez says, shaking his hand and holding it in a warm, comfortable touch for a moment. "Glad to hear your partner is out of danger. Can I do something for you?"

"Actually yes. I'm in urgent need for a console that's certified for long-distance, high-security calls with ships."

For a second, Fernandez frowns in a way that could only end in a _sorry,_ _we don't have one available_ , but then he suddenly smiles. "I can't offer such a console here, but I guess my own should be enough to connect to your office, and you can get relayed from there."

"Damn, I should've remembered that myself," Chris says, shaking his head. 

"Shock and little sleep will do that to your thinking," Fernandez says. "I'll get you to my office with a fresh cup of coffee, and then leave you alone for the call."

"Brilliant. You're a life-saver," Chris says, relieved beyond words.

*** 

"Chris!" Jim exclaims when they establish the connection. For a long moment they check him through the visuals, their shoulders slightly relaxing when he seems to be okay, but of course they also note the missing fourth of their cloverleaf. 

"Are you okay? And where's Dael?" Leonard asks.

"First of all, we're okay… now. There was an emergency and I needed to get Dael beamed in."

"What kind of emergency?" 

Even when initiating the call, Chris wasn't sure whether he should divulge the secret, but facing the question he decides that he will – it's long overdue anyway, and Dael would probably be relieved if he tackled this. 

"There have been pregnancy complications," Chris states.

He's not surprised to see two sets of jaws dropping.

" _Pregnancy complications_?" Leonard repeats roughly. 

Chris nods. "That's the actual news we had for you – congratulations, Jim, you're going to be the father of a boy."

Jim looks absolutely star-struck for a moment, then he starts smiling, a flaringly happy smile that spreads from his lips all over his face and illuminates his eyes to the brightest blue Chris has ever seen.

"Father?" Jim manages at last. "This is… I can't even… this is _awesome_. Fantastic!" 

There's not the least doubt that the news is ecstatically welcome by Jim, a fact that puts Chris's mind at peace. 

Leonard, as Chris had already assumed, doesn't share that level of happiness, but that might have to do mostly with Dael's state. "Damn, I wish I had asked Dael to become her consulting physician too, then I could've had a look at her data. I'm not surprised she's having a hard time but I might've been able to help…"

"Bones - " Jim says and shakes his head. "I'm sure they'll look after her – and Chris is, right?" He looks back at Chris, a bit more composed again. 

"Of course."

"That's... just whoa. And you're really sure it's mine?" Jim asks. "Because, well…"

"Natural conception couldn't happen with me."

"Oh?" Both men look surprised.

"It might not be in my medical file," Chris adds for clarification, "but I got myself tested a while ago, and I can't be the father. She got it confirmed in hospital, so it can only be yours."

Jim shakes his head, then nods again, dozen of thoughts visibly running through his mind, mirroring in his features. 

"This is incredible. This changes everything – _everything_."

"Actually, I thought it would only make our plans come to pass a few years earlier than we originally thought," Chris says lightly. "You know, the farm and family thing."

The lingering frown on the doc's forehead deepens over Chris' words, but Jim nods, the smile back full-fledged. "You really want that? I mean – it's such a fantastic dream, I never really thought it would happen, you know." Sobering once more, Jim says, "Are you really okay with all this, Dael carrying my child?"

Chris rolls his eyes. "How can you even ask such a silly question? Despite our partnership ceremony we're all in this relationship together. So while it was a surprise to me, I don't see any reason why we shouldn't see our plan through. Get a farm, put you into an awesome career path on Earth and the doc on the fast track for the Nobel laureate, and raise a family with Dael."

"And what about your career?"

"I've been considering retirement for weeks, and I've decided to do just that." Chris waves his hand to sweep away all possible objections. "And don't think that's a sacrifice. After three decades of service, I don't mind trying something else for a change, like house-building and horse breeding."

Jim beams at him, while the doc's face is still serious. Chris badly wishes he could have a moment just with Leonard, but doesn't know how to ask for that without making Jim feel uncomfortable. 

"Bones…" Jim says suddenly, looking to his side.

"If that's what you want, Jim, Earth and a farm and the four of us together there, it's fine by me," Leonard says simply. "Congratulations, lover-boy." He leans over and kisses his husband.

Afterwards, Jim looks a little flushed, clearing his throat. "When can I talk to Dael?"

"She's still asleep and I doubt she'll wake up before the connection window closes," Chris says apologetically, wishing he had better news. "But I’m recording this conversation and I think she'll be very relieved that you liked the news, and will send you a recording as soon as she can."

"Right. Yes. I'll have to wait for that," Jim says composed. "Only ten minutes left." He looks at his husband once again, then back at the screen. "There's so much I'd like to say to you, Chris, but I guess the two of you could use a few minutes to yourself. So – thank you so much for the news and for your support and your love and taking care of Dael. I'm going to pull all the strings I can to get us to Earth ASAP – maybe Illyon even still has that ground posting she offered to me."

"Oh – well, maybe," Chris says a little surprised; this offer is total news to him. Trust Jim to keep some secrets too. 

"Perfect. So love and kisses to Dael, I'm looking forward to hearing from her. Take care and we’ll be in touch soon." Jim gets up and after a last squeeze of Leonard's shoulder leaves the room.

The usual silence settles between them for a moment, before Leonard starts, "You're really okay with it?"

"Yes," Chris says. "As long as nobody expects me to become the father figure."

Leonard hums in thoughts. "Not feeling very fatherly, are you?"

"No. Maybe just a _not yet_ , but we'll see."

"Well, Jim's going to love that role," Leonard says. "No doubt about it."

"I didn't know he wanted children quite that much."

"I'm not sure _he_ knew – but if he did, he never shared it with me."

For another moment, they ponder the situation in silence. Then Leonard sighs. "Time's up in five. I'm sorry that I need a bit more time to deal with the news but you're right, we should be able to handle it just fine once the basics are sorted out." He smiles a bit, finally, and Chris answers the uplifting sight with a smile of his own.

"I'm sure we will. Love you, doc." Chris runs one hand over the cam in the virtual touch so often shared. "Hey, the idea of always having you here… it's great."

"Hmmm, having you around every day, yes, I don't think I'll mind that." Leonard's smile broadens, a twinkle in his eyes now as they both think of into fantasies about their days… and nights.

"All the games we could play …" Chris puts a teasing kiss on his fingertips.

"Forget that for the first two years, because during that time, you'll be happy about every single minute you manage to sleep," Leonard says, lifting a warning hand. 

Chris chuckles. "The voice of reason – I'm sure we'll find a few moments to ourselves, with four caretakers."

"Hope always dies last." There's a slight beep. "Well, got to go, time is up," Leonard says. "Please keep me informed about Dael's situation, and maybe you can get her to sign me on to her case… if she wants to. Have a good time and you'll hear from us very soon, I suppose. Love you, Chris."

"Love you too. Take care, read you soon."

The connection closes, but Leonard's smile seems to linger on the blank screen. With a sigh, Chris relaxes. Their conversation had eased most of his concerns, with the one remaining being Dael herself, with her challenging pregnancy. Ready to join her, he calls Fernandez to inform him of the end of his call and then leaves the office to join her.

***

This time around, Dael's face has gathered a slightly rosy tint, and her breathing is less shallow, her chest moving up and down with every breath. Chris sits down next to her, taking her hand and caressing it. 

Damn, The Talk had really been necessary for his peace of mind, because it was the necessary _go_ signal. Now he could jump right into planning their future home, and having something to keep him occupied is exactly what he needs, a great change from the limbo of the last four weeks. 

"Christopher…" Her voice is still weak, but Dael's finally awake and looking at him.

"Hello, darling. So glad you're better," he says, leaning over to give her a kiss. 

"What happened?" she asks, then adds in sudden panic, "The baby…?"

"All fine," he says calmly, keeping her hand in a secure, supportive hold. "You were brought here in a medical emergency, but all should be well now. How do you feel?"

She ponders the answer for a moment, then shrugs. "Okay. Exhausted."

"By the way – you missed our conference call, so I decided to inform them on your behalf."

"Oh. What did they say?" she asks hesitatingly. 

"You can watch the recording when we're home, but Jim was absolutely happy. He's already making plans for their return to Earth."

Dael's face brightens over the news. "And Leonard….?" 

"As I already presumed, he'll follow Jim wherever he goes. And once he realized that being on Earth meant having more time with me, I think he came around to the idea."

Dael smiles. "He'll be great as a father. You all will, I've got no doubt about that."

Having enough doubts of his own, Chris just squeezes her hand.

"Let's see whether we can get a doctor to release you," he says, and walks out to find one. Learning that it would take a few minutes until someone could join them, he's soon back to her room, his hand already on the handle when his name is called.

"Admiral Pike!" 

Chris turns around. "Spock?" he says, eyes widening in surprise as he recognizes the rare visitor. 

"Admiral Pike," the old Vulcan repeats as they're face to face, giving him a brief but very intense look-over. "I'm relieved to find you well."

"I'm fine – well, by my standards." 

"And your wife…?" Spock asks with a small nod towards the closed door.

"Nothing serious. She just had some trouble with –" Chris hesitates, then goes on, "her pregnancy." 

"My congratulations to the both of you," Spock says softly. "It is always good to see a new generation coming to pass."

"Biologically, it's Jim's child," Chris says, not sure why he needs to point it out, but not surprised when Spock's eyes light up over the news.

"Jim's… ah. Your quadriga always finds interesting solutions." Spock pulls out a data rod. "I've got information for you," he says. "On a race named the Gorn."

"Gorn?" Chris asks with a frown as he takes the data. "Never heard of them before."

"It is of utmost importance that Starfleet deal with them as soon as possible." Spock holds his gaze. "Promise me to deliver the information to the HQ immediately. It is imperative for you."

"You know something about the future that I don't know?" Chris says, flicking the rod in his fingers.

Spock tilts his head. "A question to which you already know the answer." He gazes at the closed door again. "Avoid the name _David_." Then he nods and turns.

In a quick decision, Chris goes after him. "Spock – in just a few months, they'll be here. I'd like to invite you to dinner then."

Spock hesitates. "The doctor…" 

"Leonard's a stubborn SOB, but I'll take care of that. Please, Spock. It's time to stop running away from them. From all of us."

The old man's eyes flicker over Chris's face as if searching for second layers in his statement. "I will attend," Spock says at last. 

"I'll send you a note with the exact date and place."

"I'll be there." The Vulcan nods again and leaves, his steps hollow in the corridor.

Thoughtfully flipping the rod in his hand, Chris enters Dael's room.

"The doctor will be here in a few minutes," he says as he sits down on her bed, placing a kiss on her patterned forehead. 

Dael nods. "What's that?" she asks, tilting her head towards the data rod.

"I just had a surprise visitor – Spock was here."

"Spock?"

"Uhm." Chris had forgotten that she hadn't been in on the secret until now, but he doesn't see any reason why not to inform her at last. "The man you know as Selek, he's actually an older Spock from another timeline."

She stares at him. "Another timeline?"

"Yes. One in which Nero didn't happen, Vulcan is still in the sky, the _Kelvin_ never went down, and Jim Kirk grew up with both parents."

"A timeline in which everything was better?" Dael asks with a frown.

"Well… it's also the timeline in which the radiation accident where you saved me cost me everything. According to Spock, I survived but my mind was caught in my incommunicado body. So they shipped me off to an alien planet to live out my remaining physical life in a fantasy world."

Listening to his own description, Chris notes with a slight shiver that he'd actually come quite close to the same locked-in situation with his mental breakdown. However, he had been able to return to the world after some months, not the least thanks to Dael, so he says, "For me, it's been great luck to have you around. But you probably would have had a much happier life in the other timeline, and I've often thought that I'd sacrifice myself instantly if I could fix your past."

"Don't say that," Dael says, looking away. "Who knows what would've happened."

"True. Spock once told me that anything that has manifested in one timeline has a higher probability to manifest in all. Jim is still captain, still has a CMO named Bones and a first officer Spock. There's still Starfleet, and the Borg. And obviously a race named the Gorn." Chris turns the rod in his fingers. "It was this Spock who gave us information about the Borg before we even knew their name. From the way he just emphasized the importance of these Gorn, they must be a similarly dangerous species." 

Chris frowns in thoughts. Spock had only delivered the information on the Borg, despite the extreme danger they posed to the whole Alpha Quadrant in his time, _after_ they'd tried to get the _Enterprise_ in their hand. It makes him wonder whether something had happened to the _Enterprise_ lately that made sharing the Gorn data so imperative. He'd have to ask Illyon when he gives her the rod.

"I wish he'd just say what he knows, but he likes keeping his secrets." 

"Maybe he wants to protect us," Dael says. "He only talked to me once, at the Admiralty Ball where Jim and I went while you were recovering with Leonard. When he asked about you, I could see that his interest was sincere – he likes you."

Chris nods. "In the other timeline, he was my science officer for many years. He seems to have been quite dedicated to me, and afterwards to Jim and the doc, although the latter relationship was a little complicated." 

He doesn't feel comfortable relating the secret none of the others know yet, that Spock had been in a threesome relationship with Jim and Leonard. However, he definitely thinks that the tension between the doc and this Spock should get resolved – Spock could use a little family of his own in this timeline, and they're the likeliest candidates for that. The old Vulcan had already saved Earth once with the Borg information, and Chris has the feeling that Spock would do a lot to protect them, if necessary. 

Dael's quiet _"Christopher?"_ brings him out of his musings. 

"I invited Spock over when they're on Earth," he says. "It's really overdue."

"Fine by me." Dael yawns. "Could we go home now? I'm tired of hanging out here."

"Absolutely," Chris heartily agrees, and is relieved when their doctor walks in at last.

***

Despite their joint desire to go home as fast as possible, Chris knows it's important to deliver the data rod, so he orders the cab to take a detour to Starfleet HQ where Illyon meets him in a quiet corner of the foyer.

"Hey, Christopher. What do you have for me?" Mori asks. "You made me quite curious."

"This," he says and gives her the data rod. "Say – did the _Enterprise_ have any strange encounters lately?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Mori says, shaking her head. "Why do you ask? What's it got to do with this?"

"I got it from Spock – the old Spock, you know."

She nods, her expression darkening.

"It's about a species called the Gorn, and he made it sound as important and urgent as the Borg information back then."

"Oh." Her eyebrows draw together in instant concern. "Kirk and his landing party got a little roughed up a few days ago, but that's nothing unusual." She turns the rod in her fingers. "The old Spock? I'm going to have a look at this right away. Did you read it?"

"No, I have neither the time nor inclination," Chris replies. "It's not my business anymore – I just want our men to return safely, and if this will help with that, I hope you'll make good use of the data."

"You really want to retire." Mori snorts unhappily. "I get that from a human point of view, but I still think it's Starfleet's loss."

Chris shrugs. "Not really." His eyes stray towards the main doors of the building, the blurred outline of the waiting cab visible. "Need to go. Take care."

Mori nods. "I'll keep you informed if anything unusual happens. Talk to you soon."

***

At home, Dael instantly sits down on the couch to watch the recording on her PADD. 

"He's really happy," she says afterwards, reverently cradling the device with Jim's smiling face still on screen.

"Yes, he is." Chris sits down next to her.

"And Leonard doesn't hate me for it."

"He never would." Chris ruffles her hair, which is much too flattened after the hospital trip. "When Jim is happy, the doc is happy. Also… not sure why, but I can see Leonard making a great dad."

Dael nods. "He'll be the one to shout the loudest when the kids do something stupid, but also the person who'll sit with them all night when they feel ill, the one to go to when in need of comfort."

Chris hums in agreement. In his inner eye, the silent images of the house and land he'd already nourished expand into a livelier scene, their lovers and friends sitting on a veranda, high-pitched children’s voices in the air. After this call, what had been still kind of _unreal_ suddenly was clearly true – they're having a baby.

"Sweetheart…" he starts, but stops when noticing that Dael has closed her eyes, her head heavy against his shoulder. All her nervous energy as of late seems to have dissipated now that their men welcomed the news, allowing her peaceful sleep again.

Unwilling to disturb her, he also settles a little more comfortably and slowly drifts into slumber with a smile on his lips. They had a lot to organize in the near future, but it all could wait a few hours…


End file.
